


Never Enough Godfathers

by Kiarawolf



Series: All your Landad dreams come true [1]
Category: This Is Not Fiction (Webcomic)
Genre: Blood, Fake Dating, Injury, M/M, TW: Blood, bed sharing, face injury, landon wishes, not graphic or anything but it's there, nothing spicy, seriously it's not bad at all just tagging in case :)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-01-30 14:19:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12655236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiarawolf/pseuds/Kiarawolf
Summary: One year after tinf, Landon keeps showing up on Julian’s doorstep.This is slow burn. Keep your eyes peeled for bed sharing, fake dating, domestic living, more bed sharing, some angst, again with the bed sharing… you get the picture.Partly inspired by Thrynnie’s Tinfic and loveknives’ college series I twist like a sunflower at the sound of your voice! I adore post-school Lanjuls and needed to contribute to the collection <3This fic could be considered "Part 1" of something bigger, or you could view it as a stand-alone. I've finished Part 1, and I've been inspired by the beautiful Thryn to release it! So here you go. Chapters every couple days :)





	1. It's snowing outside

**Author's Note:**

> Characters belong to the ever-patient Nicole, who has waited a thousand years for this fake dating <3

‘Landon?’ Julian gasps.

  The man in question stands sheepishly on the snowy doorstep, toting a heavy duffel bag over his shoulder. His signature grin is tired, and there’s a stain on the hem of his jacket. ‘The one and only,’ he promises.

  Julian stares for a moment more, taking in the removed eyebrow-piercing, the uncut hair peppered with fast-melting snow, the extra few inches of height. ‘Have you eaten?’

  Landon shrugs. ‘I’m okay.’

‘W-well, too bad! You’re having dinner with us anyway, okay? Get inside, already!’ Julian tries to hide how flustered he is by grabbing Landon’s duffle. Landon releases the bag, and shoves his now empty hands into the pockets of his jeans. He follows Julian into the house, and closes the door behind him.

‘I-I’ll just put your bag in my room for now, okay? Okay.’ Julian doesn’t know what’s happening after dinner, and he doesn’t want to presume. But it’s just a bag, right? It can be moved, if… well, it can be moved.

‘Sneaking me straight up to your room, Juls? I never expected you to move this fast.’

  It’s just teasing, of course it is; Landon’s never serious. Still, Julian blushes, and clutches the bag tighter to his chest. ‘N-no! I just thought, we shouldn’t leave your bag in the hall where people might trip, or something, and—’

  Landon’s laughing softly, grinning at him, so Julian shuts himself up and rolls his eyes. ‘You haven’t changed.’

‘What, you think my natural charm would disappear as I get older? No way. The opposite, even. When we’re in the retirement home, with dentures and walking sticks, I’ll be so super-charming, you won’t be able to resist me—’

  They’re walking past the lounge room, so of course Julian’s mum hears them. ‘ _Landon_?’ She squeals, rushing out to the hall. ‘Is that Landon with you, Julian?

‘Hey, Leslie, you’ve grown up,’ Landon winks.

  Mrs Drees laughs. ‘Oh please, I don’t look that young.’

  Hugs are exchanged, and Julian shuffles his feet. ‘Mum, do you think Landon could stay for dinner?’

‘Of course, darling! Don’t you worry about your father, I’ll take care of that. You boys go get settled. Jules, you know where the spare blankets are.’

‘Mrs Drees, you don’t have to put me up for the night, I don’t mean to be an imposition…’

‘Landon! Where’d you learn those manners? And its Christmas, of course you’re staying. It’ll be a bit squishy, but you two can make do, can’t you?’

‘Uh-huh, yep, got it, thanks Mum!’ Julian pushes Landon up the stairs as fast as he can.

  They reach Julian’s room and Julian throws the duffle in the corner. ‘Do, um,’ he stumbles. ‘Do you actually want to stay over?’ Immediately, he wants to take back his words; he feels twelve years old, asking Landon to “stay over”.

  Landon shrugs. ‘I’ve got no where else to be.’ He sits himself down on Julian’s bed, leaning back onto his elbows.

‘Don’t you want to… be with your family?’

‘Grandpa’s in hospital again,’ Landon explains. ‘I stayed too long. So they kicked me out.’

‘Oh.’ Julian feels bad for asking. From what his parent’s have told him, this is the third time this year that Landon’s grandpa has been sick. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘Nah, I’m good.’

  Right. Julian doesn’t know why he thought Landon would want to talk to him; the two have barely seen each other all year.

‘Hey, how’s vet school?’ Landon changes the subject.

  It’s been a long year. Julian doesn’t know where to start. He tells Landon about the girl in his class who sits behind him and chews gum every lecture, and then he backtracks and tells him about his first day in the dorms, and how horridly lost he’d gotten trying to even _find_ his dorm, and then he remembers the assignment he’d gotten that took two weeks of late-night sessions to finish, so he talks about that. Eventually, he runs out of things to talk about.

‘Sounds cool,’ Landon says, and Julian’s pierced with the sudden fear that all his babbling was boring. ‘Thanks for telling me. It’s, um. Your texts don’t really let on that much.’

‘Neither do yours!’ Julian defends himself. ‘You never tell me how your… um, business… is going.’

  Landon claims to have gotten himself a phone in order to help with the business, but Julian knows that all his clients are super old people and they don’t even use phones. Mostly, Landon sends Julian emojis.

‘It’s good,’ Landon claims. ‘I’ve just bought an industrial hose, actually. So I can wash down the sink super quick.’

‘Just good?’ Julian feels like there’s something Landon’s not saying.

  Landon shrugs. ‘Nah, it’s great. It’s just hard fighting all the oldies off me, you know? They’re all so charmed by my cooking, and the attention can get out of hand.’ He winks, but Julian doesn’t laugh.

‘No, but. Do you like it? Are you…’ Julian blushes, for no reason he wants to think about. ‘Happy?’

  Landon doesn’t meet his eyes. ‘Sure, I’m happy. Can’t think of a better job.’

‘Not even godfather of high school?’

‘Huh? Who told you I quit?’

‘What? Landon! We graduated! You can’t still be the godfather of high school if you don’t even go to high school anymore!’

‘I’m just kidding, just kidding! Selby’s got the gig now.’

  Julian imagines Selby making shady deals in the back of classrooms. ‘She’d be good at it,’ he says.

  He hasn’t heard much from Selby; she’s pretty busy with her studies. Unlike Julian’s last year of school, she’s actually trying for perfect grades. In fact, out of the quartet, it’s only Isaiah that he still sees regularly. Isaiah and Julian had managed to get into the same college, Isaiah on a baseball scholarship. Julian has made sort-of friends with some of the other kids in his classes, but no one that he hung out with outside of lectures. Which is okay, Julian tells himself, because he needs to focus hard on studying, anyway.

‘What about you, are you happy?’ Landon asks lightly.

‘I—um…’ Julian doesn’t want to lie. ‘I miss high school, a little,’ he admits.

  Landon looks at him out of the corner of his eye. ‘Me too.’

‘I’m, um. Not even sure about being a vet, anymore.’ Julian sits very still, waiting for Landon’s reaction. He’d never told anyone that before.

  Landon looks confused. ‘What? But you love animals.’

‘Yeah! T-that’s the problem! I want to help them be healthy and happy, but… being a vet also means… c-cutting them open and p-putting them down…’ Julian squeezes his eyes against the tears, but they well up anyway.

‘Hey…’ Landon’s hovers his hand awkwardly over Julian’s shoulder.

  Julian furiously rubbs his eyes. _Stop acting like a baby,_ he tells himself. Landon’s hand pats twice before retreating. ‘It’s okay, Lan,’ Julian says, but he’s also kind of talking to himself. ‘I’ll get over it, or something.’ Landon looks like he’s about to make a joke, so Julian changes the subject. ‘But, what about you? I thought—I mean, you’ve got a nice job, and you get to see your grandpa all the time and… why would you miss high school?’

  Landon looks sort of scared. ‘Well,’ he delays. ‘Charming old ladies is just too easy. I miss the challenge.’

  Julian laughs. ‘Landon! Be serious!’

‘I dunno.’ Landon looks away, shrugging. ‘No one’s as easy to annoy as you are, I guess.’

  Julian grasps the bed for support. Did Landon just sort of say…? That he’d _missed_ Julian?

  The door of Julian’s room bursts open, and Julian jumps away from Landon instinctively. ‘Julie, sweetie,’ Mrs Drees says, panting in the door. ‘I tried my best.’

  Mr Drees soon follows, his lips tight and face thunderous.

‘Well,’ Landon says, chipper, ‘I guess this is my cue to go. Thanks for catching up, Juls.’

‘No!’ Julian latches onto Landon’s wrist as he rises from the bed. ‘You’re having dinner, you’re staying.’

‘He most certainly is not,’ Mr Drees threatens. ‘He’s the reason you could only get into a college if you did an intensive summer course—he’s not going to ruin your changes now that you’re studying for your dream.'

  Julian knows his Dad has a point; being caught up in Landon’s antics had gotten him suspended, distracted, and terrible grades. The remedial summer course started straight after graduation, and Julian had put his head down, closed his window, and studied. He’d wanted so badly to get into vet school, he stopped letting Landon through his window—and when he did get accepted, it was a rush of excited packing, introductory activities, and settling into college life. Somewhere along the way, Landon had fallen out of Julian’s life, apart from the odd emoji. Having him here right now—his warm wrist in Julian’s fingers and his big feet awkwardly pointing towards the door—Julian doesn’t want to let him go.

‘That’s not fair! It’s Christmas! He doesn’t have anyone else to spend it with! Y-you can’t just…’ Julian trails off, too emotional to continue. ‘It’s Christmas,’ he says again, because that’s the bulk of his argument, anyway.

‘It’s fine, Jules,’ Landon shruggs. ‘I’ve actually got some hot dates lined up, so I’ll just—’

‘No! Stop joking, you don’t have any dates!’

  Mrs Drees raises an eyebrow. ‘No need to be so jealous, Julie.’

  Julian opens his mouth to deny it—but changes his mind. ‘Actually, I am jealous,’ he says. Everyone looks confused, especially Landon. But Julian pushes on. ‘I’m also angry, because Landon is—he’s my _boyfriend_! So there, Dad! You don’t like Leslie’s boyfriend, but he’s allowed to stay, s-so… you have to let Landon stay, too!’

  Everyone is quiet, and Julian’s heart feels like it was being trampled by a herd of running deer. His feet are itching to run away, but Landon’s arm settles around his shoulders, and that keeps him steady. ‘Sorry, muffin,’ Landon says, ‘I shouldn’t make jokes like that.’

‘N-no,’ Julian mumbles, ‘you shouldn’t.’

  Mr Drees clears his throat. ‘Well, I suppose Landon can… stay for dinner.’

  Mrs Drees is a bit more enthusiastic. She’s been biting her lip, and there is a suspicious shine to her eyes. ‘Oh Julie,’ she gushes, ‘we’re so happy for you! And so proud. How romantic, I always did wonder… I’m just so, so happy for you both.’

  Mr Drees gently pulls her away. ‘Come on, we’ve got dinner to prepare.’

‘Oh of course, of course, and I’ll leave you two to catch up.’

‘MUM!’ Julian really doesn’t think the wink after “catch up” is necessary.

‘Oh, no need to be shy, dear, I know what it was like at that age.’

‘But I’m n-not—I don’t—ew, _Mum_!’ Julian doesn’t know where to start.

  His parents close the door behind them. After a few seconds, Landon lifts his arm off of Julian’s shoulders. The fresh air feels cold across what had previously been a warm spot.

‘If I’d known this was a date, I would’ve brought flowers.’

‘It’s not a date!’ Jules protests.

‘Whatever you say, cupcake,’ Landon winks.

‘Is.. is it okay? To pretend? I panicked, I just really wanted you to stay and that was all I could think of, but we don’t have to if you don’t want to, I’ll think of something else—’

‘Hey, it’ll be fun. Just be careful you don’t fall for me.’

  By the time Mrs Drees calls them down for dinner, they’d gotten extra pillows for Landon, unpacked his duffel, and caught up on the gossip of who’d-done-what from their high school class.

  Dinner is in the living room. A live tree decorated with tinsel and bourbouls hunches in the corner, and red candles decorate the table. A sixth seat has clearly been added at the last minute, the placemat squeezed in on the corner.

  Leslie is excited to see Landon. ‘You’ve grown three feet!’ She exclaims.

  Landon rests his arm on Julian’s shoulder. ‘Your hair is longer,’ he says. Nodding to the scrawny boy sitting next to Leslie, Landon adds: ‘And you’ve got good taste. He’s cute.’

‘Landon,’ Julian reprimands, but there isn’t much heart in it.

‘Don’t worry Julie, I’ll do the introductions,’ Leslie says. ‘Landon, this is my boyfriend, Micha. He’s an adventurer! Not the best one, I met him when he fell of the roof of the school gym, but still pretty good, and—’

  Mrs Drees interrupts. ‘Leslie, let the young man introduce himself.’ She puts a large ham down in the centre of the table, and Mr Drees follows with a bowl of steaming potatoes.

‘Nice to meet you,’ Micha says, voice polite but quiet. There’s a scruff of dirt on the elbow of his jacket and more than one knot in his unruly hair.

  Once everyone takes their seats and heap their plates with food, conversation flows. The group happily pass through the subjects of Leslie’s results at school, Mr Dree’s tiredness from work, and Misha’s growing collection of bugs.

  When asked for news of himself, Julian realises that he doesn’t have much to say. He doesn’t want to talk about vet school, because he’s thinking about leaving, and he doesn’t want to talk about leaving because… he’s not sure yet. When his parents ask what he wants to do instead, he won’t have an answer. ‘It’s good to see Landon again,’ he says instead. It’s not a lie.

  Mrs Drees beams. ‘When did the two of you make things official? I can’t believe you didn’t even tell us anything, Julie, not until the man himself turns up on our doorstep!’

‘W-we wanted to be private,’ Julian offers.

‘Wait.’ Leslie’s chair scrapes as she stands up. ‘Are you _dating_ Landon?’

  The question sends a shock of panic to Julian’s stomach. _Play it cool, just nod and agree_ , he thinks. But instead, his face burns up and his heart gallops wildly.

‘Yup,’ Landon says, saving Julian from answering. ‘He couldn’t resist me any longer.’

  Leslie’s eyes narrow. ‘And where is Landon staying, Julian?’ Leslie looks intense, and Julian struggles to answer without a stutter.

‘M-my room.’

‘What? That’s so unfair! Why does Julian get to share with his boyfriend, but mine has to sleep in the _lounge room_?’

  Mr and Mrs Drees exchange coded glances, and Landon jumps into the silence. ‘Well, Leslie, Juls can’t exactly get pregnant.’ It’s said with a wink, but no one laughs.

  Julian’s cringes into his hands. ‘Lan _don_ ,’ he mumbles. The tips of his ears are red.

‘Joking, joking,’ Landon says, but it still doesn’t wipe the horror from Mr Dree’s face. He tries a different tack: ‘Juls and I are, uh… actually waiting till marriage. So it’s no biggy.’

‘So romantic,’ Mrs Drees sighs. ‘Have you set a date yet?’

  Julian recoils so violently that he falls off his chair. ‘ _Mum_!’ He complains, hastily picking himself up from the floor. ‘We’re not getting married!’

‘Oh…’ Mrs Drees looks rather disappointed.

  Leslie joins the conversation with a smirk. ‘Does that mean you’re breaking up?’

  Julian clambers back into his seat. Eventually he realises that the whole table is waiting for his answer. Apart from Micha; he looks like a rabbit that’s just realised it’s sat down to dinner with a bunch of foxes. Julian looks at Landon, who is a useless actor. He’s looking at Julian with a pouted lip, as though he’s terribly upset about breaking up their fake relationship. ‘Uh, breaking up, no, um, don’t worry, we’re not… I’m not planning on it, u-unless… Landon wants…’ Julian shrinks as low as he can in his chair.

  Landon reaches across the table and places his hand over Julians. ‘Julian Drees, you can’t get rid of me if you tried,’ he says, and Julian has to remind himself that it’s fake.

‘So that must mean you’re getting married,’ Leslie says.

‘W-what?’ Julian isn’t sure her statement has any logic, he’s too distracted by Landon’s thumb. For some reason, Landon hasn’t drawn his hand back; instead he’s using his thumb to stroke back and forth along Julian’s knuckles.

‘Well, you’re together now, right?’ Leslie asks, and Julian flounders; thankfully, her question was rhetorical, so she talks over his stammering. ‘So that means you’ll eventually either get married, or break up. And you just said you’re not breaking up, so…’ Her smug grin shows teeth.

  Julian’s pulse is loud in his ears. Dizziness overcomes him, and he’s glad for Landon’s steadying hand or else he might faint.

‘Leslie, leave the poor boy alone,’ Mrs Drees says.

  The rest of dinner’s conversation steers well clear of romance and dating. Still, it takes Julian until desert to recover.


	2. Snakes and Ladders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Landon shows up at Julian's college dorm at three in the morning. Julian insists he stay the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blink and you miss it reference to Landon Parentage Theory. As this fic is set a year after TINF, I'm assuming that a) Sydney Morgan drama has been dealt with b) Julian figured out he's pan and is open about finding Adrian Paris good-looking.

  The next time Landon shows up at Julian’s door, it’s three in the morning and Julian only hears the knock because he’s been in and out of sleep, trying to study for his final.

‘Hey Juls,’ Landon says, but the words come out strangely. There’s blood in his mouth and the whites of his teeth stand out in contrast. There’s a scrape on his forehead and a tear in the sleeve of his jacket. ‘How’s the study going?’

  Julian grabs Landon and pulls him inside his college dorm, shutting the door behind him. ‘Lie down, no, wait, stay standing, or I guess you could sit down, maybe, or… Hurry up! Do something!’

  Landon sits down on Julian’s study chair. ‘I’m fine, Juls, don’t worry—’

‘Landon, you’re not fine! You’re bleeding!’ Julian runs around the room, pulling open draws and looking under piles of dirty washing. ‘You could die!’ Finally, he found what he was looking for—a first aid kit, lovingly packed at the start of college by Julian’s parents.

‘Hey, it’s just a scratch; but it’s cute that you’re so worried. Did you fall for me?’

  A bandage flies out of the little white box as Julian sorts through. ‘Quick, use that! I’ll get you some water!’

  Landon holds his throbbing jaw with one hand and catches the bandage with the other. ‘Juls, it’s really not necessary—’ But Julian’s already run out of the room. He races down the dorm corridor, pushing himself to move as quickly as he can.

  In the kitchette, he grabs the first cup he can see; it’s got a chipped rim and says _World’s Best Dad_ on the side in blocky red letters. There’s still residue of tea or coffee or something—Julian doesn’t waste time looking too closely—in the bottom, but that doesn’t matter. Julian thrusts it under the tap, fills it up, and runs back to his room.

  When Julian bursts back through the door, Landon laughs. ‘Your front’s all wet.’ He’s sitting in the same position, lounged in Julian’s study chair with his elbow lent back on Julian’s desk and his other hand holding his cheek. His hair falls across his eyes. The bandage Julian threw at him is propped up amongst Julian’s textbooks, unused.

‘Put that on!’ Julian orders, flustered under the watch of Landon’s soft eyes. ‘You need to stop the blood! And quickly, drink this! You’re loosing a lot of fluids!’ Julian thrusts the mug into Landon’s hands and picks up the bandage himself—obviously Landon doesn’t care about his own life. But the moment he steps close enough, Julian feels Landon’s hand on the top of his head, ruffling his hair.

‘It’s not my blood, Juls, I’m okay.’

‘B-but, then… whose…’

‘I’m a vampire,’ Landon winks. ‘And you’re my next meal.’

‘Be serious, silly.’

‘Hey, don’t worry, it’s not a big deal—’

‘I’ll stop worrying when you tell me what happened!’

‘I just—I actually did bite someone. In self defense.’ Landon hides behind the mug as he rinses his mouth out, spitting the bloody water back into the cup.

‘What happened?’ Julian sits on the bed, clutching his sheets.

‘It was only a small fight.’

‘What was it about?’

‘Um.’ Landon looks around the room. ‘I was working at a pet store, and someone tired to steal a bunch of puppies, they said it was to make puppy pie, so I ran after them and—’

‘Landon.’ Julian’s voice is quiet.

‘I was defending your honour?’ Landon tries one last time. Julian shakes his head. ‘Um, okay. It was just. I was a little short on a payment, so… and then, my ride ditched me, and I was in the area, so I came here.’

‘What kind of payment?’

‘Juls—’ Landon swaps the hand that’s holding his cheek. ‘This room is pretty nice. How’s the roommate these days, are they still leaving socks in the sink?’

  After the Christmas Lunch fiasco, Landon and Julian have been texting more often. Landon’s gotten better (Julian suspects that Selby has been roped into giving Landon texting lessons), but he still makes a lot of typing mistakes and uses too much shorthand. Julian makes a point of messaging every few days, and he’s started calling now as well, when his roommate’s out of the room and Isaiah is caught up with training and he’s feeling lonely (which is… rather often). It was nerve racking at first, waiting for Landon to pick up and wondering what he’d even say if he did. But Landon knows just what jokes to pull, and what tales to tell when Julian’s feeling uncertain or insecure. Sometimes, Landon will put his phone on speaker (it took Julian a while to explain to make that happen) and talk while he cooks. Julian loves hearing the sizzle of hot pans and the thunk of chopping knives in the background of Landon’s laugh. And Landon’s come down to Julian’s dorm a few times as well. Julian can never get out of him how he manages the journey—it’s too much distance for his bike—nor convince him to stay longer than a few hours, but it’s still nice to be visited.

‘He hasn’t done that for a while,’ Julian says, regretting telling Landon the story about his roommate and the socks. ‘He’s not really… he doesn’t really hang out here, all that much.’

‘Shame. He’s hot.’

‘Landon! He’s not—he’s my roommate, ew!’

‘He’s not quite a Vincent Fawkes, then?’

‘N-no.’

  Landon scratches the back of his neck. ‘I guess we can’t all have super model genes,’ he winks.

  Julian blushes rapidly. ‘J-Just because—’ But then his eyes widen. ‘Hey! No fair! You’re trying to distract me. Hurry up and tell me already, what was the money for?’

‘Drugs,’ Landon says, and then: ‘Your bedspread is really cute. It reminds me of you.’

  Julian’s not sure if Landon is calling him cute or calling him… a cat? Julian’s bedspread has a giant cat photo on it. The cat’s ginger and it has its tongue out. ‘Drugs for your grandpa?’ Julian hasn’t been able to get Landon to say much about the subject, he always just replies with a joke instead, but Julian’s parents have filled him in.

‘Yeah.’ Landon eye’s won’t meet Julian’s. They look a little shinny.

‘Hey, want to play snakes and ladders?’ Julian hurries to fetch the box from under the bed. It’s still where he left it, from the last time Landon visited him.

  Julian gets halfway up the board before falling down a ladder, and Landon somehow manages to not advance any further than the first row, thanks to a combination of small rolls and a pesky little ladder he can’t get past. Landon doesn’t seem to care, more concerned with trying to get Julian to blow on his dice ( _gross_ , Julian says, _that will just make them germy, not lucky!_ ) than he is with the result of his throws. Julian has to tell him the number, and sometimes even move his marker for him. Julian, however, crosses his fingers for every roll and crows when he gets a high number. When he makes it past halfway on the board, only to fall down yet another slippery ladder and end up behind Landon, he sits upright.

‘Quickly, have your go, I want to get it right this time.’ Julian clenches his fist, determined to do better next round.

‘I’ll roll quickly if you wish me luck,’ Landon winks.

‘Ugh! Fine! Where are the dice.’

  Landon brings his hand up in front of his face and opens it. Sitting on his palm is the pair of dice.

‘Move them away from your face, silly,’ Julian orders, but Landon shakes his head.

‘It’s luckier this way, I read about this study they did, in a casino in Texas, that proved the closer the dice are to a person’s face, the—’

‘No way! That’s not real!’

‘It is, I swear.’

‘…whatever,’ Julian sighs, ‘just let me get it over with already.’ Leaning across the game, Julian gets into position. He puffs his cheeks full of air, ready to blow, but—Landon’s face is _right there_. There’s only a hand-width between them. Landon’s blue eyes aren’t blinking, and Julian can feel himself growing warmer. _Why doesn’t he look away already_ , Julian thinks, almost wanting to pinch Landon’s cheeks just to break the tense feeling all this eye contact is giving him..

  Landon’s eyelashes are darker than his hair, but they’re still red. His lips are paler. Softer. Trembling? Julian moves forward, and—

  Overbalanced, he tumbles into Landon’s lap, arms flailing wildly. Landon steadies him with one hand, the other going to his jaw. ‘Ouch.’

‘Sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—’

‘It’s okay, Juls,’ Landon laughs, ruffling his hair as Julian rights himself.

‘Did I hit you?’

‘Um, a little, but it’s no big deal—’

‘Sorry… And I’m sorry about the game…’ Julian’s tumble has knocked their markers to the floor and set the board sliding halfway across the room.

‘I think you won, anyway.’

‘What? You were ahead of me before I… before I, um… before I ruined the game! You deserve to win.’

‘Alright then, what’s my prize.’ Landon grins. ‘A kiss?’

‘N-no! You can have a…. um…’ Julian looks around the room. ‘You can have that mug!’

  Landon laughs. ‘It says “World’s Greatest Dad,” Juls. Is it even yours?’

‘N-no… I found it in the kitchen. But no one’s used it since the year started! Except now you’ve used it, so it’s yours.’

‘If you say so,’ Landon shakes his head. ‘But, uh, Juls? I think I should head off now.’

‘What? But you only just got here—’

‘Yeah, but you’ve been yawning a lot. It’s the middle of the night, I should let you get some sleep.’

‘Where will you go?’

‘Oh. I dunno, I’m not that tired, I’ll just… walk around, I guess.’

‘Landon! Don’t be silly. You can stay with me.’

‘Nah, you’ve got a big test tomorrow, I just dropped in—’

‘So I can’t be up all night worrying about you! You’re staying, that’s final!’

  Landon looks uncertain for a moment, but then his signature grin falls back into place. ‘Ooh, bossy. I like that,’ he winks.

‘Landon!’

  It doesn’t take them long to get ready to for bed. Landon doesn’t have a toothbrush or any pyjamas; he just takes off his pants (to Julian’s great relief, he has undies on underneath) and shirt, and gets into bed, facing the wall.

  Julian putters around getting organised, but eventually he’s all washed and changed and the lights are off. _Just climb in_ , Julian chides himself, _it’s not like you’ve never had a sleep-over before, stop being so nervous._ For a brief moment, he looks across to his roommate’s bed, wondering if one of them should sleep in that instead… but Landon didn’t bring it up, and for some reason Julian doesn’t want to. He slides into his own bed, under the blankets and facing Landon’s back. ‘Thanks for coming over,’ he says once he’s settled and everything is still.

‘Yeah.’ Landon says. ‘Sorry for freaking you out. You know, with all the blood. I should’ve cleaned up before I came over, I was just… dazed, I guess. Plus, I didn’t really expect you to be awake.’

‘You came over even though you thought I was asleep?’

‘Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to wake you up or anything, I just wanted…’ Landon rolls over, knees bumping Julian’s as they re-settle, eyes and chin tucked down into his chest.

‘What?’

‘I don’t know, don’t worry.’

‘Fine then…’ Julian puffs his cheeks.

Earlier this week, Julian had overhead some classmates chatting during class. They all sat in a row just in front of his otherwise empty one, and they’d been whispering under their breath about who reminded them of what animal and why. The lecturer was a lazy yet ruthless lion, the boy sitting down the front with his eyes on a mirror rather than his notebook was a preening peacock, and so on. Later, Julian had tried to play the game with Isaiah, but he’d been too busy with practice, and then Landon… but Landon just said Julian was an ostrich, or a frog, or an eel, or whatever got the biggest reaction. Despite Landon’s inability to take the game seriously, Julian had been determined to think of the perfect animal for Landon. Now, he realises it; Landon is like a clam, or an oyster. He’ll start telling Julian something, or get a look on his face like he’s thinking about something, and Julian will have a glimpse of those vulnerable insides, and then… snap. No amount of prying can crack the shell.

‘I missed you,’ Julian says. Landon’s eyes dart up. In the dark, Julian can’t quite get a read on his expression. He pushes on. ‘Calling and texting is fun, but. It’s not like high school, seeing each other every day, is it?

  Landon’s grin looks strained. ‘But you must have a hundred new friends, why –’

‘I don’t,’ Julian interrupts, voice already soft with encroaching sleep. The sheets have warmed up, and the quiet has settled. All that’s left is the sound of their breathing in the dark. ‘The other kids think I’m… weird.’

‘What? What’s wrong with them?

‘Nothing’s wrong with them, I just… I don’t fit in. I’ve been telling myself that as long as I get my degree it doesn’t matter, but. I don’t know if I even want to be a Vet anymore.’

‘Juls, you know you don’t have to keep studying if you don’t like it, right?’

‘Huh? I’m not giving up! I can do it, I’m not going to quit!’

‘It’s not quitting, you just—’

  Julian’s phone rings. ‘Who calls this late,’ he mumbles as he rolls over.

‘Julie, hello?’ It’s Leslie.

‘What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Leslie?!?’

‘Julie, I’m s-sorry, I know it’s late, but I just took the… the um, the test and I didn’t know who else to call… I… I don’t know what to do.’

  Julian sits up, fist clenched. ‘We’ll get it sorted, don’t worry. What is it?’

‘I, um. I’m. Julie, I’m _pregnant_.’

~

  Landon isn’t there when Julian wakes up. Dust drifts in sunbeams and the sound of laughter scuttles in from down the hall. Landon’s side of the bed is still warm, and Julian closes his eyes for a little bit longer, pretending he’s not alone.

  His mind wanders. Leslie had sounded so distraught when she’d called, and Julian hadn’t known what to do, what to say. He’d encouraged her to go to Mum and Dad, but… what if they aren’t supportive? They were quite young when they had Julian, but Leslie’s not even out of school yet, maybe that’s different…

  _Shit,_ Julian thinks, sitting up with a start. _School!_ He has a test today!

  He finds the work he’d been going over last night on his desk. He’d been looking at his notes from lectures and writing important things onto a fresh piece of paper. Except, all the paper has on it is two dot points and a doodle of a cat. _I’m going to fail,_ Julian thinks, and collapses back onto his bed.

  He’s still huddled under the sheets, fighting back tears, when someone knocks on the door. Julian doesn’t answer it. If by some miracle it’s his roommate visiting the room, then he has a key.

‘Juls?’ It’s Landon. ‘I brought you breakfast. I mean, it’s just the ingredients, but I’ll turn it into breakfast.’

  Julian rolls out of bed, still waddled in the doona. You don’t need a key to open the door from the inside, but he still has trouble with pulling the handle without the doona falling away.

  Landon strolls in, a paper bag full of food balanced in his arms. ‘They didn’t have any banana, but I know you like pear just as—Juls? What’s wrong?’

  Julian returns his doona-wrapped self to the bed with a flop. ‘ _Everything_ ,’ he moans.

‘Do—do you want me to go get Isaiah?’

‘No! I don’t want you to leave! Why’d you leave this morning? It felt like…’ Julian doesn’t know how to finish that sentence. _It felt like you didn’t care about me_ made no sense; why would it hurt one friend if the other wasn’t there when they woke up? But Julian had felt hurt.

‘I got you breakfast,’ Landon repeats. ‘But I’ll wait next time yeah? And we’ll get it together.’ Landon realises what he’s implied. ‘I mean, uh—’

‘Yeah, okay,’ Julian rushes to agree. His cheeks feel hot. _Next time_ , Landon had said. As though sleep-overs are going to be a regular thing.

‘Um, so—I’ll just whip this together then,’ Landon says, pulling the breakfast ingredients out of his grocery bag, ‘and you can tell me about “everything”, yeah?’

‘That’s not fair, I should help—’

‘Nah, it’s a small kitchen, better just one person do it.’

‘There’s no _kitchen_ , Lan, this is my _bedroom_.’

‘Exactly,’ Landon agrees, clearing a space on Julian’s desk, ‘a very small kitchen.’

  With a bit more prodding, Julian starts to talk. It’s kind of nice, being able to see Landon chopping and whisking without Landon looking at him too much in return. Sometimes, if Landon looks too long, Julian gets all goose-bumpy down his spine and squirmy in his stomach, and he trips over his words. But looking at Landon, the opposite happens; calm drips down his body and he starts feeling like there’s a little piece of sunlight growing in his heart. As Landon pieces together the meal, Julian tells him about being worried for Leslie and being panicked for the test—and about feeling like he doesn’t fit the mould of Isaiah’s cool friends. Like maybe he’s just a pity friend, a hanger-on from high school that Isaiah’s too nice to get rid of.

  And Landon listens. When he hands Julian the bowl he’s prepared, he asks: ‘So, what do you want to do?’

‘I don’t know.’ Julian feels better now that he’s shared what was bothering him, but he still doesn’t know how to go about solving it.

‘Well, how big is the exam? Is it worth bothering about?’

‘It’s not officially graded, but it’s helping prepare for—’

‘ _What_? Juls, you—it really doesn’t even count to your grade?’

‘Hey! Don’t pick on me…! I have to work really hard! I only just got into this college by doing the summer intensive thing, I need to prove that I was worth it. My parents are paying and… since I did so badly in school, you know, because I was distracted with… Sydney Morgan and… um—’ Julian swallows whatever was about to come out.

‘Yeah,’ Landon acknowledges. His face is turned away, so Julian can’t see his expression; but the way his hands fiddle in his lap is a good indication.

‘Landon. You know that I don’t blame you for my grades, right? I mean, you distracted me, but that’s my own fault… I should’ve… ’

‘Are you trying to confess to me? So cute, you’re blushing,’ Landon jokes, and Julian can tell that he’s desperately trying to change the subject. ‘But, uh, if the test isn’t even worth any marks, just blow it off. Head back to yours and see Leslie, yeah?’

  Julian wonders if he should try and bring the topic of conversation back around to what they’d been almost talking about; there’s still things he hasn’t said. Words in the back of his throat that he’s held swallowed back for at least a year now. ‘That sounds like a plan,’ he says instead. Landon clearly doesn’t want to talk about it.

  Julian calls Leslie. After asking if he’s told Mum and Dad yet (she hasn’t), he tells her he’s coming home; she tries to convince him to stay at college, but there’s a tremor in her voice. ‘I’m coming,’ he asserts. ‘Stay right there.’

  As Julian races around the room, packing random belongings into a cat-faced duffle bag, Landon follows him around, feeding him pieces of fruit salad one bite at a time.

‘It’s really good,’ Julian says, almost as though he’s surprised. ‘T-the honey is really nice and _mmm_ , the little crunchy bits are so yummy—’ Julian breaks off in order to close his eyes and really savour the flavours. When he opens them again, Landon’s looking away and blushing, for some reason.

‘A-anyway,’ Julian says, trying to clear the weird tension in the room, ‘let’s get going, yeah?’

  They pack up the last few things and lock the door behind them. In his car, Julian sets his phone to give directions to _Home_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! Comments make me smile <3  
> Now that it's no longer spoilers, I can also tell you a few fun facts:  
> Micha’s character is part OC, part loosely based off half-remembered conversations with Nicole! I was trying to get my head around Micha because the original conception for this fic was a “Leslie’s life story” type thing??? Where she took over the Sydney Morgan quest that Julian set down, and had a High School Romance. I soon realised that Julian (and, therefore, Landon) would end up looking after Leslie’s kid, so… the Landad took over, and here we are.   
> Also... I have no idea how health care works in the US so... maybe Landon buying pain-relief drugs from a bunch of thugs isn't plausible? Just go with it.
> 
> Lastly! I could use some help naming the baby! If you have any ideas, let me know :)


	3. Tabby-cats love Salmon Cakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leslie takes Landon and Julian to a cat cafe.

  Julian rises groggily from his blankets when he hears the tapping on his window.

‘Hold up, Lan,’ he orders. Rubbing his eyes, he crosses his room and opens the window.

‘I brought you breakfast,’ Landon grins, holing up a brown paper bag.

‘You don’t have to do that every time, you know! You’re allowed to come over without giving me food.’

  Landon just hands him the bag. Julian rolls his eyes, but lifts it a little closer to his nose, trying to get a whiff without looking like he’s interested.

‘It’s an apple and rhubarb muffin. Can I come in now, Princess?’

‘Don’t call me that! And hurry up!’

  Landon manoeuvres through the window with practiced ease. ‘I saw your light on last night.’

‘Yeah, I came home.’

  Landon turns his back to Julian and fiddles with the ears of Julian’s cat-shaped lamp. ‘You didn’t tell me you were going on break,’ he says.

‘That’s because it’s not a break, silly,’ Julian retorts, his cheeks puffing.

‘Oh?’

‘Yeah… I just… Leslie asked me to come back yesterday afternoon because she was having her first ultrasound, so.’

  Landon turns around with a grin. ‘It’s okay, you can admit that you were rushing back to see me.’

‘Landon!’

‘What?’ Landon laughs, flopping down on Julian’s bed. Julian joins him after a moment, perching on the edge and carefully fishing out his muffin.

‘You didn’t bring one for yourself?’

  Landon shakes his head. ‘I already gave the rest of them to your Mum, at the front door. This one was a special Juls delivery.’

‘What, is this one different?’

‘Oh yeah. This one’s got an extra ingredient.’

  Julian hesitates over his first bite. He looks at the muffintop closely. ‘What? What did you put in it? Lan! Tell me!’

‘The special ingredient is…’ Landon waits till Julian looks him in the eye. ‘Love,’ Landon winks.

  Julian tires to hide his blush by looking away. _He doesn’t mean it_ , he reminds himself for what feels like the millionth time this year. _He always says stuff like that, to everyone_.

  Someone knocks on the door, but they come in without even waiting for an all-clear. ‘Julie I still don’t know if—Oh. Hey, Landon.’ Leslie’s blooming baby bump is mostly covered by her crossed arms and her flowing top. ‘What are you doing here? Did you stay the night again? I can’t believe Mum and Dad let you—’

‘He didn’t stay the night,’ Julian interrupts, wary of Leslie dobbing him into Mum and Dad, even though it had been fine the first time, back at christmas. ‘He actually… he bought over this muffin, for you.’ Julian reluctantly holds out his as-yet-unbitten muffin. ‘Apple and rhubarb.’

‘Oh! A muffin? Yum, thanks Landon!’ Leslie grabs the offering and takes a nibble. ‘It’s good! Like, super good.’

  Julian rubs him arm, eyes on the disappearing muffin. ‘What did you come in here for again?’

‘I’ve had an amazing idea, Julie. You’re going to love it.’

‘What?’ Julian looks wary.

‘Well, remember when you told me how you weren’t sure you wanted to do Vet school—’

‘Leslie! Not so loud!’ Julian rushes across the room to put hand over Leslie’s mouth. ‘I told you that in private! Because you were telling me stuff!’

  Leslie tries to push him away and they wrestle back and forth for a moment.

‘You doing okay there, Juls?’ Landon teases. He’s lounging on the bed with a lazy grin on his face.

‘You can’t be worried about Landon overhearing,’ Leslie reasons once she’s holding Julian’s hands away from her face.

‘No,’ Julian scowls. ‘He knows already.’

‘Of course he does, silly. How long have you two been dating now?’

‘What?’ Julian looks outraged.

‘Remember? Christmas, when Landon come over? You two revealed that you were together!’

‘Oh, yeah,’ Julian agrees. He’d almost forgotten. ‘H-how long ago was it, Landon?’

‘Since I met you, Princess.’

‘No, not—whatever you just answered—how long since… what Leslie said?’

‘Five years,’ Landon winks.

‘What? Oh, so romantic!’ Leslie sighs.

   Julian pokes her. ‘It’s not five years, silly.’

‘What’s the idea, Leslie?’ Landon asks, changing the subject.

‘Oh! I almost forgot! Because you’re thinking of getting out of Vet—’

‘Leslie!’

‘Sorry! Because you’re _thinking of getting out of Vet school_ ,’ she whispers, ‘and I don’t know what I’m doing with my life, I thought we should go to this cool cafe in the city and look at career stuff together! You’ll like it! It’s a cat cafe, and they do yoga out back—’

‘What?’ Julian pokes her—or tires to, she side-steps him easily. ‘You just want someone to come with you to some… to some silly yoga thing! Well I don’t want to leave the house today! So no!’

‘It’s not a yoga thing!’ Leslie counters.

‘I’ll go,’ Landon decides. ‘Juls, can I borrow some cat-themed clothes?’

  Somewhere along the way between going through Julian’s wardrobe and dressing up Landon, Julian realises that he’s going as well.

‘I think we should wear matching hats,’ Landon decides. He fishes out a pair of cat-ear hats long forgotten in the bottom of Julian’s wardrobe. They’re too small for either of their heads, but a bit of “brain-squeezing,” as Leslie calls it, keeps them on.

  They take Julian’s car, following Leslie’s directions on a rather… circular route. As they walk from their car park to the cafe, more than one person on the street stops to watch them.

  Landon’s wearing a sweater with a fluffy cat stitched onto the front, cat-print leggings (those came from Leslie’s wardrobe) under a pair of Julian’s cat-trimmed shorts, a scarf with cat tassels, and, of course, the cat-eared hat. ‘You look silly,’ Julian huffs.

‘Princess, you wound me!’ Landon plays. ‘I thought you’d be wooed by my attire.’

  Julian doesn’t have time to laugh—or get angry. They’ve arrived at the cat cafe, and right up against the window, a tiny black-and-white kitten is blinking at them. ‘I love you,’ Julian proclaims, hand against the glass. The kitten tilts its head and turns away. ‘No…’ Julian clutches Landon’s arm for support.

‘There’s more inside, silly,’ Landon laughs, pulling Julian’s cheeks. Julian slaps his hands away, huffing.

  Leslie eyes the pair of them. ‘Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Julian’s broken down already and we’re not even inside.’

‘No!’ Julian cries. ‘I can do it! I can be strong!’

  Leslie exchanges a look with Landon. ‘Alright. Let’s go.’

  As they go through the front door, a cat nearly rushes past them. Julian closes it just in time, and the slinky short-haired thing looks at him with baleful eyes. ‘This perfect cat almost got out onto the street!’ Julian wails. ‘There are cars and! Big birds! And! It’s not _safe_.’

‘Alright Julie,’ Leslie indulges him. ‘Let’s just find a table, okay?’

  The cafe is busy; it must be early lunch for the office buildings nearby. It looks just like a normal cafe, with small round tables and wire-framed chairs; except it’s also overrun with cats. Kittens play between the chair legs, swatting at the tassels on a customer’s scarf, and older, calmer cats lay basking in the sun from the windows—whether that sun happens to fall on a table or on the floor or on a customer’s lap.

‘I love it,’ Julian whispers. ‘I want to live here. Leslie, can we run away and live here?’

‘I’ll run away with you, Juls,’ Landon offers as they take their seats at a just-cleared table. ‘We could elope.’

‘W-what— _Landon_ —no!’ Julian splutters, outraged, but then a rotund tabby cat jumps into his lap and rubs its head against Julian’s chest. ‘I’m going to die,’ Julian announces as he very carefully pets the tabby.

  The waiter brings their menus and pours water for the table.

  Landon turns his head sideways as he looks at all the menu items. They’re partially in French, or… Latin, or something, and he’s not entirely sure what they all mean. ‘What are you having, Leslie?’ Landon asks.

‘The salmon and chia hotcake,’ she says without even having looked at the menu. ‘It’s the whole reason I wanted to come, actually. A girl in my pre-pregnancy group said that she had one of them from this cafe and it stoped her morning sickness! Completely.’

  Landon looks dubious. ‘You really think it works?’

‘No,’ Leslie laughs. ‘I’m not _silly_. But it’s worth a shot, right? I wasn’t going to do anything else today and… Julie’s seemed like he needs a day out, lately.’

‘Hmm,’ Landon agrees.

  The both watch Julian, who is scratching the tabby cat under its chin. The tabby’s tail is flicking lazily and its quiet purring can just be heard above the rest of the chatter of the cafe.

‘He hasn’t smiled like that in forever,’ Leslie sighs, knowing that even though Julian is well within earshot, he isn’t hearing their conversation. ‘He tries to hide it but he’s really stressed about Vet studies, when he doesn’t even enjoy it, and then when he comes home he gets stressed about me…’

  The waiter returns before Landon can reply. Leslie orders her salmon chia hotcake, and Landon orders two random things off the menu for Julian and himself.

‘Oh no,’ Julian wails. ‘I’m sorry tabby-tabs, I’m so sorry!’ The tabby cat has jumped off his lap and is slinking out towards the back of the cafe. Julian rises to follow it, but Leslie grabs his arm and keeps him in his seat.

‘Let it go, Julie,’ she says. ‘There are other cats.’

‘I don’t know what I did,’ Julian says, voice breaking. ‘I was just patting her and then… and then she left!’

‘You probably didn’t do anything wrong,’ Leslie reasons, ‘She just must’ve smelt something nice over there.’

‘You really think so?’

  Leslie nods. ‘Landon, fetch him another cat.’

‘Yes, my lady,’ Landon stands up and bows gallantly to Leslie. Turning to Julian, he adds: ‘Leave it to me.’

  As Landon slips away, Leslie turns to Julian. ‘Julie, I wanted to ask you and Landon something but… I wanted to ask you first. In case you weren’t okay with me asking Landon.’

‘Huh?’ Julian frowns. ‘I don’t get it.’

‘Just—just listen for a sec, okay? I promise it’ll be cool as heckers. Okay, so… Julie, would you like to be their godfather?’ Leslie’s hands are over the bump of her stomach, but here eyes are on Julian.

‘Leslie!’ Julian’s hands fly to his mouth. ‘No! You can’t want me! I’d be useless at raising a baby! I—I can’t even make a _cat_ happy for two minutes, I wouldn’t be able t-to—’

‘Julian Sebastian Drees, stop that! I asked you, didn’t I? Which obviously means I think you can do it! I know if I drank poisoned tea or something then I’d want you to be the one to raise this baby! I think you could do it really well, because you’d care a lot and you wouldn’t give up.’

‘But, what about Mum and Dad—’

‘Don’t make me spell it out, Julie! Obviously Mum and Dad would be in charge, but they’re already _grandparents_ , they can’t also be… _godparents_. Plus, what if they cark it too?’ She raises her eyebrows.

‘I… I d-don’t get it,’ Julian stutters again. ‘You really want me to?’

‘Yes, you silly. And Landon. I used to think he was a jerk—and you better not tell him that I think any differently now! But, he’s a good guy. Micha’s grandparents get that meal delivery thing that Landon does. The food sounds kinda wacky but it’s also tailored exactly for them. Like, Micha’s grandma can’t eat solids, so Landon cooks her stuff for a little bit longer, and Micha’s grandpa hates potato, so Landon made a carrot and raddish mash, or something weird like that, and they ate it all up; and he chats to them as well, while he cooks. He’s really patient with them, apparently.’

‘I thought Landon made all the meals at his kitchen and then delivered them?’

‘Huh? He used to, but some clients now ask him to come cook at their home.’ Leslie frowns. ‘How come you didn’t you know that?’

‘I… um—well, Landon doesn’t tell me much, about his job, or whatever.’

‘Oh. Weird. Are you two having like, _relationship trouble_?’ Leslie stage-whispers the last part.

‘What? No!’ Julian stops himself just in time from denying that he and Landon are in a relationship; he’d been meaning to tell her otherwise since she reminded him this morning, but that would mean admitting he’d lied at Christmas, or saying that he and Landon had gone through a breakup, and both of those things sound… scary. ‘We’re, um. Fine. Good! We’re good, I guess.’

‘Okay Julie, I believe you.’

  Avoiding his sister’s gaze, Julian spots Landon at the back of the cafe. He has a kitten under each arm and he’s trapped by a pair of twin kids, their pigtails bouncing as they beg Landon to stand still so they can pat the kittens.

 ‘Awwwww,’ Leslie coos, noticing where Julian’s eyes are. ‘You two are so cute!’

  Julian can’t help but blush. He swallows away his urge to disagree with Leslie; from her perspective, they are cute. He doesn’t want to ruin it for her by saying that it’s all… well, it’s not actually _fake_ because it’s not really different from how they act as friends, but it’s still _lying_. When he looks at the bit of Leslie’s belly he can see from the table, Julian feels guilty. Leslie wants them to be _godfathers_. That’s a big responsibility. If something were to happen, and they needed to take care of the baby… wouldn’t it be cruel, to promise his sister that they can offer it a loving home, when in fact they can’t? Children need stability, not… Julian’s erratic behaviour and Landon coming around now and then. Julian nods to himself. This is too important to just let Leslie get her way in, not when “her way” in this case means a home built on _lies_. It’s probably _illegal_. ‘Leslie, we can’t be godfathers.’

‘Look, Julie, Landon’s already had some good practice with his whole godfather of high school thing, and you’re my favourite brother’—Julian resists interrupting with the obvious ‘I’m your only brother’—‘so it makes sense! Micha’s family isn’t really around, either. So, Julie, no! You can’t talk me out of it! I know you’d be perfect, and I won’t have anyone else. So shut it.’

  Julian shakes his head. She just doesn’t _understand_. He decides that he has to just come clean. The thought makes his palms sweat. But already his little lie to get Landon into Christmas dinner has snowballed, and if he doesn’t set the record straight now… who knows how long it could go on? He takes a deep breath and stands up, the chair scraping audibly on the floor as it’s pushed away. ‘Leslie, there’s something I haven’t told you—or, um something I told you that I shouldn’t have told you.’

   Leslie is wary. ‘What…?’

‘Well, um—It’s just that, Landon and I… We, ah,’ Julian flounders. For lack of ideas about an ideal way to say it, Julian closes his eyes and spits out: ‘we’re not actually _together_.’

  Amazingly, Leslie laughs. She laughs so hard the cat at the window jumps away from them and the people sitting at the next table glance over. ‘Julian Drees,’ Leslie says, ‘Julian _Sebastian_ Drees, I know you probably think you’re not good enough or some silliness, but if you want to get out of being a godfather you’ll have to try harder than that. You two not together? Please.’ She laughs again.

‘I-I…’

‘Thought so. Now, stop telling lies. Ask Landon about the godfather thing when you get the time. Oh! And sit down and hurry up and finish your food. We’re going to yoga after this.’

‘What? Leslie! You said there wasn’t going to be any yoga today!’

‘Whoopsie,’ she laughs.

 


	4. The Imaginary Pet Monkey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Landon shows up at Julian's college dorm (again).
> 
> This chapter is More Bed Sharing, but can you ever really have Too Much Bed Sharing??

‘It’s open,’ Julian calls in reply to the quiet nock on his door. He doesn’t take his eyes off his notes as whoever it is enters the room, opening and closing the door as they do so.

  The notes span the entirety of his desk, and some have even crept up the wall, clinging there with economised blogs of blue-tack. The most important ones are directly below Julian’s face, and he stares unblinkingly at them as though hoping they might become one with his brain via osmosis.

‘Hey Juls,’ Landon says. ‘It’s me.’

  Julian spins around so quickly that he almost falls off his chair. ‘Landon!’ He shrieks. ‘You didn’t say you were coming!’ Julian is suddenly accurately aware of his appearance; he’s been so focused on studying for his exam this evening, he’s missed showers and sleep. He hasn’t actually had time to look in a mirror and check, but he knows he must have baggy eyes and oily hair, grease stains on his face from snack food and dry lips from worrying them too often. Frantic, Julian flings himself out of his chair and dives under his duvet.

‘Sorry,’ Landon says, coming to sit on the edge of the bed where Julian can peek at him from over the edge of the blankets. ‘I should have messaged you first.’

  Landon looks… tired. His shoulders hang loosely, and his usually restlessly tapping fingers are still. He’s wearing one of Julian’s shirts that somehow ended up as Landon’s during their time in high school—an old one with a hole on the side and a bunch of flowers arranged in the shape of a cat on the front. It makes Julian feels a little better about his own two-day-old-pyjama appearance, but also… worried. ‘What’s wrong, Lan?’

‘Huh?’

‘Do you want to get in?’ Julian lifts the corner of the covers a little.

  Landon looks at the open space in Julian’s bed for a long time. His eyes go a little bit blank, as though he’s zoned out.

‘Get in,’ Julian says, deciding for him. ‘Come on.’

  Not even toeing off his shoes, Landon gets under the covers. He tucks his head down low, putting it just next to Julian’s chest. His legs are too long, so he tucks them up, foetus-style.

‘Lan? You’re scaring me,’ Julian whispers. ‘What happened?’

‘I got struck by your beauty,’ Landon jokes. Julian swallows away the little spike of hurt that comes with it; Landon wouldn’t be making a dig at Julian’s neglected appearance… would he?

‘I’m doing exams,’ Julian answers, even though it’s a poor excuse for not showering.

‘Oh. I guess this is a bad time. Sorry, Juls, I’ll get out of your hair—’

‘No!’ Julian places a hand on Landon’s shoulder, keeping him firmly on the bed. ‘Not until you tell me what’s happened to you!’

‘I… I’ll tell you later, but… I don’t really want to talk about it today… Can you tell me about your exams, instead?’

‘O-okay,’ Julian agrees. ‘I suppose. But you have to promise! That you’ll tell me!’

  Landon nods, the motion causing the crown of his head to brush against Julian’s chest. ‘I promise I’ll tell you later.’

‘Okay. Well, um. I have three exams but it feels like ten! I’m doing one on welfare, which I feel really good about, do you remember, it’s that subject about giving animals enough water and enrichment and all of that stuff? It’s really cool. But the other two are not so good. There’s anatomy, which is okay except whenever I try to revise the part of the course where… w-where we had to dissect that little cat… um, yeah, thanks for talking to me that afternoon, by the way, I don’t know if I said anything that made sense because I was crying so much, but—’

  Landon’s the one who’s crying, now. His shoulders are shaking with tiny earthquakes.

‘Lan, what—’ Julian doesn’t know what to do. Landon’s never _cried_ before. Not actual, tears and sobbing, crying. Landon curls himself into a tighter ball, and, instinctually, Julian moves with him; he draws one arm over Landon, holding his back carefully, and he cradles Landon’s head with the other. The new position makes Landon cry even more, and Julian panics that he’s done something wrong; but he doesn’t move.

  They lay like that for a long time. Landon’s sobs peter out, and his shoulders loosen until Julian’s not sure if he’s asleep or awake. Julian puts his cheek against Landon’s forehead and closes his eyes.

  The little sunny patch created by his window creeps across the floor. Julian’s arm starts to tingle with pins and needles, but he lets the sensation spread until the whole arm is numb and heavy.

  Eventually, Landon sighs. ‘I should go,’ he says, drawing away.

‘Landon—’

‘No, you’ve… you’ve got a big test, I shouldn’t have disturbed you anyway—’ He reaches the edge of the bed, and is about to slip off until Julian grabs him by the wrist.

‘Landon! Who cares about the test! I’m worried about you! You should sleep more! And maybe eat something, or, o-or drink some water!’

‘Heh, cute, so worried about me,’ Landon tries to joke.

  Julian shoves him gently. ‘I am, idiot.’

  Landon’s ears grow red, and he rubs the back of his neck. ‘What, did you fall for me?’

  Julian hates that question. Almost since they first met, Landon’s been asking it, like it’s a personal joke. _Did you fall for me_? In middle school, it had been easy to answer; _ew, gross, you’re so germy_! There was a period where _no, I’m in love with Sydney Morgan, obviously_ , had been his answer. Now? Julian avoids Landon’s eyes. ‘You should drink some water,’ he announces. Despite stopping Landon from leaving only recently, it’s now Julian who bolts from the bed. He sifts through his pile of notes and quickly finds the old mug that he’d lent Landon the first time he came to Julian’s dorm, the one with “World’s Best Dad” on the side. ‘I’ll get you some water right now,’ Julian says.

‘Sure,’ Landon nods, hugging his knees to his chest.

  When Julian comes back, Landon’s gone. There’s just a note on the bed, written in Landon’s atrocious handwriting and signed with nothing but a wonky smiley-face.

  _Gone home, thanks for having me. Good luck on the test!!!_

  Julian sighs. Pulling out his phone, he uses Landon’s speed-dail. But either Landon’s not picking up, or his phone is dead. Shaking his head, Julian starts throwing clothes into a bag. It usually takes him half an hour to drive home, but today there’s been an accident and he has to sit idling for what feels like forever.

  His Mum is surprised to see him. ‘Didn’t you have those big tests this week, Julie?’

  Julian shrugs, avoiding her eyes as he pushes past her up to his room. ‘They got moved. S-so I thought I’d just come home to study.’

  In his room, Julian dumps his backpack and rushes straight to his window. Landon’s curtains are wide open, but his lights are all off. Julian throws in paper aeroplanes (most of them land on the lawn between their two houses) and hisses as loud as she dares, but there’s no response. Either Landon’s deeply asleep or Julian’s managed to beat him home. Which might make sense; Landon’s always managed to avoid the question of how he gets to Julian’s dorm in the first place, when he visits. If he’s getting lifts with shady characters—as Julian imagines—it might not be the speediest trip.

  Julian feels restless just sitting in his room waiting. He tries calling Landon again, but, again, the call rings out.

  _Maybe Landon had to rush to work_ , Julian thinks. He visits the ice cream shop, the florist, and all of Landon’s other odd jobs... none of them have seen him. Mitch is at the hotdog stand, and Julian talks to him for a while. It’s good to see someone else from school, even if Mitch bristles the moment Julian mentions he’s looking for Landon.

  At home, Julian checks Landon’s window again. Still nothing, and it’s quickly getting dark outside.

‘Julie,’ Mrs Drees says from Julian’s doorway.

  Julian’s arms flail as he stumbles away from the windowsill. ‘Yes?’

  Mrs Drees sits herself on Julian’s bed and sighs. ‘It’s so romantic, you sitting here watching his window.’

‘What? I wasn’t—I was just…’

‘Do you need any snacks to fuel your pining? I made some muesli bars today, they’re still warm.’

  Julian remembers the last time his mum tried to make muesli bars; they’d been packed full of nuts and berries and oats, but didn’t contain a single grain of sugar or honey to sweeten things up. ‘I’ll pass.’

‘Julie, can I talk to you about something?’

  Cautiously, Julian joins his mum on the bed. She pats a stray hair down into place.

‘It’s about the godfather thing.’

  For some reason, all that comes to mind is _Godfather of Highschool_. ‘Landon?’

‘Well, yes, sweetie, but also you. I know Leslie asked you last month. And you haven’t told her yes or no, yet.’

‘Oh. Yeah.’

‘You’re allowed to say no, Julie. But it would mean a lot to your sister.’

‘I know. I just…’ Julian struggles to finish his sentence. ‘I don’t want Leslie to die,’ he eventually manages. An image pops into his mind: Leslie on the floor staring lifelessly at the ceiling, a baby crying next to her. ‘I don’t want to need to be a godfather.’

‘Oh Julie, come here,’ Mrs Drees coos. Julian doesn’t move, but she pulls him into a hug anyway. ‘Nothing’s going to happen to Leslie. Okay? Nothing. But she is young. Younger than me when I had you, even. And I don’t know for sure, but—it feels like this is her way of asking you to help. To be involved. She doesn’t want to do it alone, Julie.’

‘She won’t be alone.’

‘No, of course not. Your father and I will be here every step of the way, and Micha as well—’

‘No, I mean—’ Julian pushes out of his mother’s embrace, squaring his jaw. ‘I mean, she won’t be alone. I’m going to do it.’

  They talk for a while more, and Julian carefully deflects any questions about Landon. Yet Mrs Drees must have noticed his “discrete” glances at the window, for she leaves with a wink. ‘Hopefully your Prince Charming comes home soon.’

‘Mum!’ Julian protests, ‘you better not put this in some silly story!’ But she’s already left.

  He rushes to the window and checks Landon’s house; it’s as dark and quiet as ever. Julian tries calling Landon, but, again, he doesn’t pick up. Sighing, Julian settles in to wait at the window.

  Quickly, his eyes grow tired.

  He’s jolted alert when Leslie comes home; she’s just been to a doctor’s appointment, and she has the most amazing radiographs to show him. It’s just a black and white photo, all blurry dots and shapes… but Leslie points out the head, and the little fist and the curve of the spine. ‘They’re beautiful, Leslie,’ Julian says, trying not to sob.

  She swats him on the head. ‘Julian Drees! I haven’t cried yet, don’t make me now!’

  Julian laughs, and they talk more about the appointment in order to distract him from the tear-jerking radiograph. When Leslie leaves for dinner, Julian says he’s not hungry. ‘I’m too nervous about my studies,’ he explains.

  Leslie looks around the room, as though highlighting the fact that Julian doesn’t have one single book open. ‘Okay Julie,’ she says, leaving it at that.

  It’s completely dark when Landon makes it home. It’s only the moonlight reflecting off his bicycle frame that alerts Julian. ‘Landon!’ He hisses, knowing he’s too far away to be heard. Why has Landon got a bike? Did he ride to Julian’s college and back? All in one day?

‘Landon!’ Julian tries again, a little louder. Whether he heard Julian or whether he’d intended to glance at Julian’s window anyway, Landon looks up after he’s dismounted his bike. Julian waves frantically.

  A few minutes later, Landon’s put his bike away and has climbed the tree into Julian’s window. ‘What are you doing back?’ He asks as he clambers through the frame. ‘Didn’t you have that test?’

  Julian shrugs. ‘N-no, it got moved,’ he says. ‘And you seemed so upset, before… Lan, did you _ride your bike_ to my college?’

‘Uh…’ Landon rubs the back of his neck. ‘Don’t be mad?’

  Julian throws his arms in the air. ‘It’s dangerous! There’s huge highways! A-and wild animals! And you must’ve spent half your day riding today, exercise is good but that’s too much! Y-you’ll get sick!’ Julian flails his arms a little more for extra emphasis. ‘You’ll pass out from working yourself too hard and then the wild animals will eat you!’

  Landon looks uncomfortable. ‘Uh, the power of your love kept me strong?’

‘No! Not good enough! Why didn’t you just ask for a lift? It didn’t even take me that long in the car.’

‘You had that test—’

‘And all the other times?’

  Landon shrugs. ‘Don’t you think I’m getting fit, though? Look at these muscles.’ He flexes exaggeratedly, like it’s a huge joke, but Julian finds himself fighting a blush anyway.

‘S-silly.’ Julian shakes his head.

  Landon laughs, and puts his muscles down. For a few moments, they let the quiet creep in.

‘Landon—’ Julian starts, only to sigh and start again. ‘Lan, will you tell me what had you so upset this morning now? I’ve been worried all day.’

‘It’s fine, Juls, don’t worry—’

‘I _am_ worried! And you promised you’d tell me!’

‘I-I guess…’

‘Sit down?’ Julian pats empty space on the bed next to him.

  For a moment, it looks like Landon, with his body angled towards the window, won’t comply—neither with sharing his woes nor with sitting on the bed—but then he swallows, and the tension in his shoulders releases. He crosses the room, and sits down.

‘Grandpa’s dying,’ he says.

  Julian sits very still. ‘Oh,’ he says.

‘I mean, I’ve known that for a while, but—this morning, the hospital called, and…’

‘And?’ Julian probes, gently. Landon’s never talked openly about his Grandpa’s illness before. Julian’s only ever heard developments through his parents, who are informed by the hospital.

  Landon doesn’t answer for a long time. Then he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. His voice is careful, as though he has to make sure he doesn’t trip over any of the words. ‘He’s gotten worse. It could be as soon as… as soon as this week.’

  Julian moves closer to Landon and puts his arms around Landon’s torso. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says, only just keeping it from being a sob.

  Landon shrugs, somewhat stiff. ‘It’s been coming for a while. I shouldn’t be… surprised.’

‘Lan…’ Julian squeezes him a little tighter. Then, chaotically, he leaps off the bed. ‘We should go to the hospital! You should be at your Grandpa’s bed!’

  Landon closes his eyes. ‘But things were just getting spicy here, in your bed,’ he teases.

  Julian huffs. ‘Nothing was getting spicy, you idiot.’

‘It might’ve,’ Landon counters. ‘You go to the hospital, if you want. I’ll wait here.’

‘That’s just silly!’

‘Oh. Yeah, you’re right, I should go back to mine—’

‘No, that’s not what I meant! I meant, it’s silly for me to go to the hospital without you. We’ll go together, yeah?’ Landon doesn’t disagree, so Julian keeps on. ‘Tomorrow. Tomorrow, first thing in the morning. Okay? And you’re staying here. So I can keep an eye on you. We can’t have you… riding off on your bike again, or whatever!’

  Landon smiles weakly. ‘Okay, Juls.’

‘Okay. Good. Okay. You just stay there, I’ll grab go find a towel and you can have a shower, and then—’

‘Sorry,’ Landon grimaces. ‘I should’ve known I’d be stinky.’

‘No! It’s actually nice! I like—’ Julian slams his mouth shut. _I like the way you smell._ Panic floods him, and he stares, wide-eyed, at a blank spot on the floor. ‘I like fetching towels,’ he whispers eventually, and then, very deliberately not looking anywhere near Landon, he flees the room.

  Outside, he leans against the closed door. He thinks he can hear, very faintly, the sound of Landon’s fond chuckle.

  Mortified, Julian struggles to control his breathing. _Landon’s going to think I’m_ —he doesn’t want to finish that thought. Weird? Strange? In-love with him?

  Shaking the thought out of his head and taking a deep breath, Julian heads to the linen closet.

  Julian returns to his room only a few minutes later, a towel in one hand and an apple in the other—the apple because Landon spent a lot of the day bike riding, and probably didn’t eat anything between dropping his bike off and climbing through Julian’s window.

  But Landon jolts awake as the door opens.

‘Were you asleep?’ Asks Julian, although the answer is obvious.

‘Uh…’ Landon says, rubbing his eyes. ‘Yeah. I was dreaming about my Prince Charming fetching me towels.’

  Julian huffs. ‘You didn’t even get into bed properly,’ he reprimands. Throwing the towels and the apple aside, he crosses the room to the bed. ‘Here,’ he says, pulling one of Landon’s shoes off.

  Landon’s shoulders tense up. ‘So eager to undress me, Juls.’

  Julian ducks his head to hide his blush. ‘You’re not going to sleep comfortably if you don’t take sleeping seriously,’ Julian says as he pulls off the other shoe. ‘Now, take your belt off! Do you want a pyjama shirt? I have lots.’

‘Um…’

‘Here, this one is nice and soft but it’s a bit old, or you could try this one but it has a hole, or—’

‘Juls, it’s okay. I don’t need anything special.’

‘Well, here, then, you choose.’ Julian reaches deep into the bottom drawer of his closet, grabs as many as he can, and then dumps the entire armload onto Landon’s lap. ‘Anyway, I’m going to brush my teeth and put my pyjamas on and you better have a chosen a shirt by then! And gotten in bed! And be asleep again!’

  Julian speeds through his nightly routine, telling himself that he’s not _rushing_ , per say, it’s just that he’s just remarkably _efficient_ in the bathroom today for no real reason. No red-haired reason at all.

  Landon has followed Julian’s instructions and is under the covers by the time Julian gets back. ‘Are you even sleepy?’ Landon asks, yawning.

‘Yes,’ Julian lies, getting into bed.

  Landon’s on the far side, on his back and looking tired but tense. They were hugging only this morning, but now the thought of even putting a hand on Landon’s shoulder is too much for Julian. The bed’s still cold, and the house isn’t quiet yet—Julian can just hear the indistinct sounds of Leslie chatting on the phone downstairs.

‘What shirt did you pick,’ Julian asks.

‘None. I thought you’d prefer me naked,’ Landon answers, eyes closed but face perfectly straight.

  Despite himself, Julian laughs. ‘Come on, tell me.’

‘It was at the bottom of the pile.’ Landon pulls the sheets back a little, sending in a rush of cold air.

  The shirt’s too small for him. It can’t be comfortable, the sleeves stretched tight around his armpits.

‘Lan! That’s so embarrassing!’ Julian hides his face in the blankets, but he can still see the shirts’ design in his mind’s eye; an old crayon drawing he had done, years and years ago. Julian’s Mum had loved it so much, she’d scanned it in and had it printed on a shirt.

‘What? This drawing is cute.’

  Julian peeps with one eye as Landon points to all the terribly-drawn stick figures of young-Julian’s life: there’s Leslie, and Mrs Drees, and then Mr Drees with Grandma, and there’s ten different cats all over Julian’s triangle-on-box house… and in the tree, there’s a little face with red hair. ‘That one’s me,’ says Landon, even though Julian doesn’t need his own childhood drawings explained to him, even though Julian already knows that Landon’s there, hanging around the edges of his life, then and now. Hanging around, or does Julian keep reeling him back?

‘It’s not you,’ Julian says, trying to shake his train of thought. ‘It’s a pet monkey I used to have.’

  Landon yawns, settling himself back into the bed. ‘You didn’t used to have a pet monkey.’

‘Yes I did. It was an imaginary one.’

‘Juls, if you had an imaginary pet anything, it would be an imaginary pet cat. Not a monkey.’

‘Maybe I was exploring my options.’

‘Hmm,’ Landon hums. He’s almost asleep again already.

‘I-I always felt bad about that shirt,’ Julian confesses. He doesn’t know why he wants to pick up the conversation again. Why can’t he let poor Landon sleep? But the bed doesn’t feel warm yet.

‘Why?’

‘Because I drew my Grandma but I f-forgot to…. I didn’t draw my _Grandpa_. And then a year later, he died.’ Too late, Julian realises what a stupid, stupid topic he’s brought up.

  But Landon just hums, his eyes closed. ‘Juls,’ he mummers, ‘it’s not your fault. And you have such a big family, it would be easy to forget now and then.’

  Julian shakes his head. A big family? He only has his sister, his parents, his grandparents, his aunt, some cousins… and a baby on the way. It’s not a big family, not by any stretch. But compared to Landon… he only has his Grandpa. And he’s about to loose him.

‘I only didn’t draw him because I got distracted by you poking faces at me from the tree. So I drew you, and then I forgot,’ Julian confesses; but Landon’s already asleep.

  He looks strange when he’s sleeping. Soft and relaxed and peaceful. His hair falls across his eyes, and his mouth rests open just a tiny amount; enough for the gleam of his tongue piecing to be visible.

  Julian slips out of bed as carefully as he can.

  In the kitchen, Leslie is slicing boiled egg. ‘Julie!’ She cries, rushing to hug him. Her belly gets in the way, but Julian doesn’t mind. ‘Didn’t you have that huge test today? How’d it go?’

‘I um. I actually d-didn’t do it…’

‘You deferred it? Are you sick? Why didn’t you say! I just hugged you! I can’t get sick! The baby might—’

‘No! No, I’m not sick. I just… I didn’t show up. I came home instead.’

  Leslie leads him to the table. They sit down, and she stares at him carefully. ‘Julian Sebastion Drees, what have you done.’

‘I-I…’ He hugs his arms, cold in just his pyjamas. ‘I don’t know. There was just… more important stuff to do.’

‘Heck, Julian. Does this mean… did you just quit Vet school, then?’

‘I…’ Julian bites his bottom lip. ‘I’ve already failed some subjects, last semester. I think… I think not going to this test means that… Leslie, I don’t know what to do now.’

  Leslie flicks him on the arm. ‘Wake up, Julian Drees. You’re just in a bit of a rut. I’ll get you out of this, I promise. Tomorrow, we’ll go to a careers fair, and—’

‘Leslie?’

‘What?’

‘I actually came down to ask you… I mean, I was wondering…’ Julian ducks his head, blushing.

‘Julie! Tell me already!’

‘You remember when you asked me and Landon to… um…’

‘Oh! Oh! Did you talk to him?’

‘Um…. Yeah, kind of, and uh… he really wants… I think it would be good if he… like if he had some family. So—we’ll be godparents. Both of us.’

  Leslie’s celebration almost wakes the house. As soon as he can, Julian slips away to bed; luckily, she doesn’t notice that he’s dodged the “careers and study” conversation.

  The room’s dark when he enters, and Landon’s curled over more than half the bed, breath rising and falling slow and soft. Julian slips in between the sheets. ‘Goodnight,’ he whispers.


	5. You Are My Light in the Kitchen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Landon joins Julian on a family holiday.

 After his grandpa passes away, Landon all but disappears. Julian sees him sometimes, but the Landon that he sees is stripped of jokes, stripped of blushes. He doesn’t show up to Julian’s window with fresh muffins or celery-and-salad sandwiches.

  If Julian ducks across to Landon’s house, he’ll most likely find him holed up in some new part of the house, surrounded by boxes and garbage bags. One time, Julian catches Landon watching his Grandpa’s collection of Adrian Paris movies; he’d switched it off as soon as he spotted Julian and he’d pretended not to be crying, and Julian hadn’t known how to handle the intensely twisted, tangled feeling that was so poignant in the room.

  Usually, when he finds Landon in such a state, he’ll drag him back to his house, where there is warm food and open windows. And after dinner he’ll lead Landon upstairs, pour him into bed and play with his hair until he falls asleep; plait it, comb it, twirl locks tightly around and around his finger. Landon never objects. If Julian says “eat this”, then Landon eats it, if Julian says “go to sleep”, then Landon sleeps.

  Julian is scared he’s taking advantage. Landon needs a safe place, a quiet place to grieve, and Julian is putting him in his bed and running his fingers through his hair and growing pleasantly accustomed to a warm weight next to him when he wakes up and—and Landon isn’t consenting to all of this, not really. He isn’t objecting, but he isn’t himself, either. But Julian thinks of Landon’s little room, in Landon’s big empty house, where he would be sleeping all by himself with the heating cut off and those boxes in the hall and… he can’t bare to leave him there. Besides, it’s what you’re supposed to do with people who’ve just lost a family member, right? Keep them company? Be there for them? Julian’s Mum has taken the new sleeping arrangements in her stride, waxing on about Julian’s beautiful heart and his admirable commitment, and Julian feels so twisted inside.

  She thinks they’re dating, still. Everyone does. Sometimes, when he wakes up with Landon’s arm flung around his chest, and, instead of extracting himself, he rolls over and burrows against Landon’s torso, half asleep and simply moving towards the warmth… Yeah, sometimes Julian wonders if he’s fooled himself into thinking it, too.

  Landon doesn’t cook anymore. He doesn’t cook at his Grandpa’s house and he doesn’t cook for his elderly clients. The calls, at first so insistent that Landon turned his phone to silent (or, Julian did, because Landon still has little idea how to use technology)… the calls soon peter off.

  A week or so after Landon’s Grandpa’s passing, a solicitor comes to the Drees household. She putts a slim folder on the table and asks everyone but Landon to leave; Leslie and Mrs and Mr Drees do so promptly, but Landon put a cautious hand on Julian’s knee. ‘Can you stay?’ He asks. He sounds hollow.

  Julian sits back down.

  The solicitor outlines the legal responsibilities that Landon’s Grandpa had left behind—Julian tries his best to keep up, but the whole thing makes absolutely no sense to him. Numbers, debts, assets, investments; it seems to all cancel each other out, until all that is left is the house. ‘You Grandpa paid it off,’ the solicitor explains. ‘So it’s yours now, outright. I’m afraid there’s not much besides that.’

  Julian struggles to control his breathing. Landon now owns… a house? A whole entire house? The last time Julian had thought about owning a house, it had been a vague thought about hoping that being a Vet paid well enough to eventually save enough for one.

  And, it’s a selfish thought, but—Landon owns the house _next to Julian’s parents_. No one will be moving. For years and years and years, and even longer if they wanted, they can… be neighbours? Be friends? Build a bridge between their two houses and share a bedroom? Julian pushes the train of thought away with a measure of guilt.

  Legal stuff is serious, not a far-blown fantasy.

  Indeed, the solicitor is now outlining the costs and responsibilities associated with owning a house; Landon will have to pay for a fire alarm check, change the water and the electricity bills into his own name, ensure that his gutters comply with the new local laws… the list goes on, and Julian feels himself growing increasingly lost and overwhelmed. ‘It’s so much work,’ he whispers.

  Landon nods. His eyes are frowning and his hand rubbs the back of his neck.

‘I think we should stop for today,’ Julian ventures.

  The solicitor looks at him, glances at Landon, and returns her gaze to Julian. ‘Certainly. I know it’s a difficult time, and this can be a lot to process. Everything I’ve been talking about is written here’—she slides a folder’s worth of documents across the table—‘and you can of course call me if you have any questions.’

  After pleasantries, she’s gone.

  Julian takes a deep breath. ‘Are you okay? I didn’t mean to send her away if you wanted to keep—’

  Landon shakes his head, hunching his shoulders. ‘Juls, can we…’ Landon turns his head aside. ‘I just want to go to bed.’

  Julian glances out the window; the sky is clear and the sun is high. He’d thought today might be a good day to get Landon moving again; maybe they could’ve gone for a walk or a bike ride or something. ‘Okay. Let’s watch a movie, yeah?’

  Before they can get up to leave, the door to the dining room bursts open. ‘You got the house!’ Mrs Drees cries.

‘Mum? How do you know—’

‘Sorry darling, I just had to listen. You’re useless at legal things, and Landon’s not in a state to take it in. Now, I took some notes, and I think I can talk to Ernie down the road about the gutter compliance thing, he got himself sorted just last week—oh, and, Landon, honey, don’t worry about—’

‘Mum! Stop! Snooping is illegal! And—and, your notes sound good, but just—just not _now_.’

  Mrs Drees laughs. ‘Lucky I know someone on the force,’ she winks. She grabs the folder, thick with documents, from the middle of the table. ‘I’ll put this in a safe space for when you’re ready, okay?’

  Julian scowls. ‘Fine. But don’t loose it!’

  When Julian turns around, Landon’s not there. ‘Mum, did you see where Landon went?’

‘He didn’t go upstairs?’

  Landon isn’t upstairs. Julian tries his mobile, and hears the answering ring come from his own desk. Landon’s useless at remembering to charge the thing, so Julian had been the one to plug it into the wall; now, it mocks him.

  _Maybe he needs some alone time,_ Julian tries to tell himself. Still, he can’t help the compulsion to go over and check Landon’s grandpa’s house… well, Landon’s house, now. It’s empty. Or, at least, Landon’s not answering the door.

  He texts Leslie, but she hasn’t seen him. _Are you coming home soon?_ Julian asks, but she says she’s got homework club after school and then band practice. Bored, Julian tries to pass the time looking at cat videos, but it doesn’t quite do the trick. He’s gotten used to having Landon around constantly, and, despite the circumstances, he can admit that it’s been nice.

  When strained voices start drifting up from the first floor, Julian creeps out to the top of the stairs to eavesdrop.

‘—state-wide, it’s not just me. None of us want to take a pay cut, darling, but it’s either that or our jobs. Unless you want to move… ?’

‘No, Leslie needs stability, she needs to finish school. It’s fine, we’ll work something out. We always do.’

‘What about the nursery?’

‘What about it?’

‘We don’t have one. Once Julian goes back to college, we can use his room, but while he’s here on holidays we should think about…’

  Julian, guilty, goes back to his room. So far, he’s only told Leslie that he’s not going back to college. The conversation to come—the disappointment, the confusion—he desperately doesn’t want to think about it. But avoiding the issue entirely is only twisting his stomach tighter with each passing day.

  Pulling up his laptop, Julian searches for _career quizzes_. The first three tell him he should be a hairdresser, a pilot, and a newscaster. It’s useless advice, but it’s fun, and it feels halfway productive. He opens another.

  Landon doesn’t come home until it’s past midnight. Julian is woken by the tapping on his window. Groggy, he moves across the room to open it. Landon leans across from the tree branch, but only pokes his head in. ‘Juls! You look cute when you’re sleepy.’

‘Landon!’ Julian rubs the sleep from his eyes, self-conscious. He’s not sure what to say. It’s dark outside, and the night is quiet. Why hasn’t Landon come inside? He’s just leaning on the window, staring at him.

‘Juls, I don’t understand,’ Landon whispers, swaying forward until they’re within touching distance ‘Is this… are we…?’ Landon shakes his head, wobbling a little.

‘Careful!’ Julian scolds, grabbing Landon’s shoulders to keep him stable. The smell of alcohol makes Julian feel sick. _Where have you been? What have you been doing?_ The questions fight on his tongue. But Julian knows they would come out with an edge, with a bite; possessive, like Landon should never have left in the first place, like Julian has a right to know where and why and with whom. ‘I’ve been worried,’ Julian says instead, and it’s an understatement.

‘I’m fine,’ Landon shrugs, but the accompanying smile is an eyes-shut one. ‘Have I mentioned that you’re beautiful in the moonlight?’

  Julian laughs, rolling his eyes. ‘That’s a streetlamp, Lan.’

‘Yeah. Still.’

  Landon’s halfway down the tree before Julian can reply. ‘Wait! Where are you going?’

‘Back to the party,’ Landon calls back, almost on the ground. ‘Night’s still young.’

‘Okay. H-have fun, I guess. No smoking!’

  But Landon doesn’t go back to any party. Julian stays by the window and watches him; he simply walks down the street and up to his Grandpa’s house. His house. He fumbles for a while with the key, and then the big door shuts behind him. Julian waits and waits and waits, but none of the lights ever turn on. _Landon must’ve gone out again while I didn’t notice,_ Julian tells himself. He doesn’t want to imagine Landon fumbling through the dark, getting lost in the big empty rooms with no one there to help him if he trips over a box and bangs his head, and Julian should really go over just in case Landon’s laying on the floor in the dark with blood pooling around his head and the dust settling—

  The faint sound of music drifts to Julian’s window.

  Julian rests a hand against the wall for support. Landon’s okay—not dead, at least. The guitar strings aren’t being plucked in any particular rhythm or to any tune; Landon just seems to be doing whatever.

  Following his mood? The music sounds sad; the notes drawn out and repeating. _But that’s just projection_ , Julian tells himself. The music is just music, and Julian’s the one searching for hidden clues and finding made-up meaning.

  He goes to bed, but he’s too restless to sleep well.

  It’s not until three days later that Julian manages to catch Landon again. Landon is putting his rubbish out. The bins are near overflowing, and a few loose papers spill out when Landon bounces them over the curb.

‘You dropped these,’ Julian says, rushing to gather the papers before they blow away. He can’t quite meet Landon’s eyes when he thrust them—old medical reports, it looks like—towards him.

  _It’s been three days since we’ve talked_ , Julian thinks.

‘Thanks,’ Landon says. He takes the paper, stuffs them back in under the bin lid where they belong, and rubs the back of his neck. ‘How are you, Princess?’

  Julian’s tried to do other stuff, but mostly he’s been sitting by his window, one eye on Landon’s house. Landon’s come out and back a couple times, once with a small bag of groceries. There’d been banging noises, and black garbage bags have slowly accumulated on the front porch. Julian’s heard music, now and then, but no real songs, just strumming and plucking. The only lights that are ever on are the ones in Landon’s room, and, briefly, the ones in the kitchen.

‘Um, this weekend—like, actually tonight, because it’s Friday today, so—anyway, my grandparents are having this family thing, I guess.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yeah, it’s kinda why I—um—’ Julian gestures to the bins and the street and the awkward step and half between Landon and himself. ‘You’re invited.’

  Landon seems shocked. ‘I only met your grandma that one time, did the kiss I gave her cheek leave that much of an impression…?’

  Julian laughs, but shakes his head. ‘Leslie told her we’re—you and me—are, um… _together_. Because—you know.’

  They’ve not once talked about it, since that first time. It’s been eight months, now, since Julian told his family he and Landon were dating so that his Mum wouldn’t be able to kick Landon out (although, on reflection, Julian’s not sure his Dad would’ve actually done that anyway). Eight months, and they’ve not once talked about it.

  Landon’s a study in carefully composed nonchalance; his hands in his pockets and his head quirked slightly to the side. But there’s a tension in his jaw, like he’s trying to clamp down on his tongue, and a stillness around his chest like he’s holding his breath. Waiting.

  Julian has no idea what for.

  Julian waves his arms, rushing onto safer topics. ‘We’ll stay the weekend, and there’ll be that thing with the peas, I don’t know what it’s called, but, it’s good—well, not as good as your cooking, but still—and Micha’s coming too. And you should definitely come because grandma probably already set you a place at the table—and also because I miss you.’

  He hadn’t meant to say that last bit; so much for safer topics. Julian flounders, wobbling a little where he stands and bumping into the bins.

‘Careful,’ Landon murmurs, catching him by the shoulders. ‘Don’t fall for me too hard, you’ll hurt yourself.’

‘Lan!’ Julian cries, batting ineffectually at Landon’s chest. ‘I’m serious!’ The tightness in his chest twists another degree, and Julian grabs Landon’s shirt and twists that, trying to make him match, trying to make him understand. It’s been three days. ‘I was worried, Landon. You didn’t answer any of my texts, and you haven’t got that information about the house and the legal stuff from my Mum, and your kitchen light isn’t on often enough. Have you even been eating? You’re too skinny. And last night I think I smelt smoke coming from your house, which is not—’

‘Juls, Juls,’ Landon interrupts. ‘I’m fine. I wasn’t smoking. I just.’ He shrugs, hands falling away from Julian’s shoulders. He sighs. ‘I needed some time, I guess. To clear out all this junk.’

 ‘Okay.’ Julian takes a deep breath. Squares his shoulders. ‘Okay,’ he repeats. ‘But you don’t have to shut me out, next time. I thought you might be angry at me, or something.’

  Landon laughs. ‘You’re too cute to be angry with.’

  Julian blushes and stammers. ‘N-no I’m not!’

  Landon doesn’t reply; just grins. They share a moment, catching each other’s eyes with mirth at the familiarity of the exchange.

‘So,’ Julian says, changing the subject and sticking his chin out. ‘Are you coming, then?’

‘Huh?’

‘This weekend? My grandma has to know how many peas to buy.’

‘Yeah—yeah. If you want me too, of course.’

  They part ways to pack and prepare. Less than an hour later, Landon’s climbing through Juls’ window. He’s got a small bag with him full of clothes and toiletries.

‘I don’t know what to pack,’ Julian wails, flinging himself face down on the bed. His next words are rather muffled. ‘Just leave me to die here.’

  In short order, Landon’s managed to cajole Julian into gathering all the appropriate things; clothes, toothbrush, shoes, phone, charger. They argue good naturedly over a cat jumper—Julian’s of the opinion that it won’t be cold, and it’s and old jumper anyway, and Landon’s taken the stance that it might get cold, and Julian looks cute in the jumper besides, and then they’re teasing and laughing and pulling each other’s cheeks.

  Julian feels aglow. Landon hasn’t looked this happy in weeks; in months. Landon must have cleared out some junk in his head, not just in his house, because he seems to have gained a decent measure of mental peace.

  The drive to Grandma’s house is long enough that Landon starts looking a little green. Julian tries to distract him with photos of kittens in the local rescues of all the towns they’re driving through, and it works for a little—but eventually Landon’s motion sickness gets bad enough that he just has to stare, jaw clenched, at the horizon.

‘You can show me the kittens, Julie,’ Leslie says. She’s squished into the pull-up seat in the boot. Micha, quietly listening to music, is on Julian’s other side, and Mr and Mrs Drees are in the front seats, doing their best with navigating.

  Leaning back to pass his phone to Leslie, Julian presses his front up against Landon. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbles, but Landon seems to have relaxed, rather than tensed, at the contact. Experimentally, Julian tucks his legs up underneath him, leaving his knee pressing against Landon’s thigh while he and Leslie debate the merits of the kitten with white spots as compared to the kitten with black socks. Predictably, they agree that “both” is the answer.

  And Julian’s not sure, but it seems like Landon looks a little less green around the gills.

  When they get to the house, Grandma is waiting at the door. Julian rushes ahead of everyone to give her a hug; she’s warm and soft and smells like his childhood. ‘I missed you, nan-nan,’ he says.

‘And I missed you, young man.’

  Julian moves aside so everyone else can get hugs; apart from Micha, who tentatively offers a handshake (which Grandma accepts with good grace), and Landon, who makes a show of bowing down to kissing Grandma’s hand, looking up at her through his eyelashes and winking. Julian grabs him by the scruff and drags him away.

‘Jealous? Did you fall for me?’

‘I just don’t want you to end up my Grandpa!’

  Landon looks shell-shocked. ‘That would be _weird_ ,’ he agrees.

  They get settled into their rooms; Mr and Mrs Drees are in the spare, Micha and Leslie are in the study, and Landon and Julian in the laundry.

‘It’s cute,’ Landon says as they get their lilo inflated and the sheets fitted. ‘It’s like a camp-out.’

‘Sorry,’ Julian winces. ‘My Grandma just has a small house, and—’

‘Juls, I love it.’

‘Oh, okay. And, um—’ Julian takes a deep breath. If he doesn’t ask, it’ll weigh on his conscious. ‘Do you mind, uh, sharing? Because I’m sure we could find—’

‘Huh? Of course not. I’m the luckiest guy in town,’ Landon winks.

  Blushing, Julian rolls his eyes. ‘ _Lan_ ,’ he moans, but without any bite.

  They drift into the lounge room, where Leslie and Micha are playing snap. Leslie is winning.

‘Could someone help me in here…?’ Comes a call from the kitchen.

‘That’s Grandma,’ Julian explains, pushing Landon forward.

  In the doorway, they loiter uncertainly until Grandma spots them. ‘At your service,’ Landon grins, trying to play light.

  Grandma pats his shoulder. ‘Kind of you, dear. Could you be an angel and grab that cake tin down from the top shelf? No use putting my back out when we’ve got such tall young people about the house.’

  Landon stretches his arms above his head to grab the tin. His shirt lifts up a little. Julian franticly searches for something else to look at. ‘I love your window box, Grandma,’ Julian says.

‘Thank you, young man. I’ve just got rosemary and oregano, but the rosemary has such beautiful flowers at the right time of year, and…’ Julian doesn’t mean to tune her out, but she’s the type of person who can keep up a conversation with only an ‘oh?’ and a nod now and then from the other party, and—and Landon’s standing in the afternoon sun with a cake tin nestled in both hands and an expression on his face that Julian can’t quite phase.

  Grandma follows Julian’s line of sight. ‘Do you want to cook the cake, dear? I have heard that you’re quite the chef, and it would certainly save me—’

‘No,’ Landon swallows. ‘Thank you.’

  Julian waits for the joke, but it doesn’t come. Landon puts the cake tin down on the bench, hunches his shoulders, and says: ‘Excuse me.’ He turns, and leaves the room.

  Grandma touches Julian’s shoulder. ‘The poor thing. One of my friends down near where you live used to get meals done by your Landon. Friendly service, delicious food, prices so cheap it was criminal not to tip him, that’s what she said. Said it looked like he really loved his job.’

‘His grandpa died,’ Julian explains. ‘He doesn’t have any other family.’

‘Now, that’s complete nonsense, Julian. He’s got you, which means he’s got us. Go on, I can tell you want to go and talk to him. Give me a bit of space to whip this cake up, won’t you?’

  Julian tracks Landon down. He’s in their room—the laundry—with his back against the dryer and a ukulele in his lap.

‘I didn’t know you brought that,’ Julian says.

‘That’s because I’m full of surprises, princess,’ Landon winks. ‘Do you want me to play something?’

‘Yes, but—but I want you to cook something, more.’

  Landon nods sagely. ‘I always knew the way to your heart would be through you stomach.’ He strums lightly over the strings.

‘Lan, you haven’t really done any cooking since… since… you know… and it’s making me worried!’

‘I just haven’t felt like it, I guess,’ Landon says, but he won’t meet Julian’s eyes.

‘What about your business? Y-you were doing good stuff, helping all those old people have yummy meals.’

‘It’s fine, Juls. They don’t really need me.’

  Julian clenches his fist. ‘Well, I need you. I haven’t been able to sleep very much, these past three days when you weren’t talking to me, and I tried to make vegan food but it just ends up tasting gross, and I saw a baby monkey video yesterday that I thought you’d like but then I remembered that you weren’t talking to me and I didn’t know why and—’ Julian scrunches his fists up against his eyes.

‘Hey, hey, Juls—’ Landon puts the ukulele aside and, his arms suddenly empty, rubs the back of his neck. ‘I, uh, I haven’t slept too good either. And don’t get upset over me, I’m not worth it—I’m sorry, um, I guess I didn’t think…’

  Julian punches Landon’s shoulder. ‘Yeah, you didn’t think. But. I’m the one who’s not thinking now, because we were talking about you and the cooking thing and then I just made it all about me. S-so it’s your turn for real, now. You better start talking!’

‘Uh, I’d rather, um—can you show me that monkey video? Do you still have it? Or I could play you a song? Maybe I’ll write one about monkeys.’

  Julian pulls out his phone. The topic’s not closed; he’d barely managed to get it open. But Landon doesn’t want to talk, and Julian’s not going to push it.

  The monkey video is easy to find (he’d saved it to his library). They watch it three times before Landon gets the right feel for a sort of melody, and then they come up with lyrics together.

  Dinner eventually arrives. They take their seats at the “kid’s end” of the table, with Leslie and Micha. Julian piles his plate with the peas thing he’s so been looking forward to, but barely gets in a bite before the questions are on him.

‘So, young man,’ Grandma says, ‘why haven’t you brought your partner up to see me until now, hmm? I know we’ve met when you were younger, Landon, dear, but it’s different now, isn’t it?’

  Julian chokes. _Partner_? What happened to _boyfriend_?

  Landon, patting his back, jumps in. ‘Well, Mrs Drees, I’m afraid that it’s completely my fault. I’ve heard such dazzling tales of your brilliance at cards, I’ve been scared I’m not worthy to be in your presence.’

  Mr Drees sighs. Mrs Drees also sighs, but she clutches her heart as she does so. Grandma blushes. ‘Well dear, that’s a flattery if I’ve ever heard one. We’ll have to have a round later, then.’

  The conversation shifts towards Leslie, and the pregnancy and the preparations; Julian allows himself to focus on his food, because it’s all stuff he’s heard before. Leslie’s due in less than a month, and there’s still no nursery; but the laundry might do if they move the washing machine outside under the eves and build a roof for it, and Leslie’s ultrasounds have all gone without a hitch, and there’s _still_ no decision on a name. Julian notices, however, that Landon is merely stirring his food. He’s got his eyes on his plate but his head tilts to follow the conversation.

‘You’re interested in baby stuff,’ Julian accuses—teases—under his breath, pinching Landon on the thigh under the table.

  Landon grabs his fingers to stop the pinch but then just sort of… holds them. Julian feels his face heating. He and Landon are kind of… holding hands? Under the table. While the rest of his family talk about genetics and baby hair colour and cloth nappies verses disposables, with Micha looking more and more panicked. No one can see; no one knows. Does that mean that it’s for real? Rather than part of the whole boyfriend act that they’re putting on—or, or _partners_ , as Grandma had said?

  But the thing is, Julian realises, the thing is that they’ve never really put on much of an act. They’ve said stuff that’s not true, like “we’re dating”, but they haven’t really _done_ anything out of the usual.

  What does this mean, then, Landon’s fingers gently holding his sweaty paw? Is it just… does Landon think that Julian’s nervous? Or scared about something? Maybe he’s just forgotten about his hand entirely?

‘I have plenty of spare rooms,’ Landon offers.

  Julian’s confused; he’s been so focused on the maybe-hand-holding thing that he’s lost the track of the conversation.

‘We couldn’t possibly put the nursery in your house, Landon,’ Mrs Drees says.

‘Oh, I meant—the laundry, there’s plenty of space in my laundry for some extra stuff, I just cleaned a bunch of things out, so…’ Landon lets go of Julian’s fingers to rub the back of his neck.

  Julian’s hand feels empty. ‘O-or I could move in with Landon! You could turn my room into a nursery!’

  Mr Drees looks resigned. Mrs Drees’ face, however, lights up. ‘Well, that would certainly make sense. You’ll be at college again soon, anyway, so it would just be for a couple of weeks.’

  Leslie glares at Julian, who tries his best to hide behind the flowers in the centre of the table. He’s going to tell their parents about college, he _is_. It’s just taking a while to work up his courage.

  He manages to navigate the rest of dinner with more success. The conversation is mainly led by Grandma, as everyone else seems rather tired. She tells them about the latest gossip at her bowling club, the state of the garden given it hasn’t rained in _weeks_ , and (several times) how glad she is to have them visiting.

  After dinner, they retire to the living room so that Landon can play Grandma in cards. They get so into it that desert is served by Julian and Mrs Drees. Julian takes his portion and sits in the lounge chair nearest Landon, spooning his cake and enjoying the warmth of the room. Every now and then, Landon will find some way to get Julian involved; a question, a conspiratorial look, a joke accentuated with a touch of Julian’s knee.

  Despite it all, something in Julian grows progressively morose as the happy evening goes on. Landon _fits_ here, in Julian’s life. He fits so effortlessly and so perfectly. _And it’s not real_ , Julian reminds himself, firmly, because sometimes he genuinely forgets. _We’re just playacting at being boyfriends and it’s not real_.

  Landon might be here if they were friends, Julian knows. If they were friends rather than pretend-boyfriends then it’s possible very little would be different about tonight—Landon still might be sitting on the floor next to Julian, playing cards with Grandma. But the way other people look at them—as a pair, a unit—that would be different. The way Julian feels, with Landon’s hand on his knee and a smile on the air between them—like they’re connected, like they share something that no one else can see—that would be different. _And it’s all fake_ , Julian reminds himself, yet again. _It’s just in your head._

  Pair by pair Julian’s family drift off to bed. Eventually, Grandma pushes away her cards and declares that she cannot manage even one more game before nodding off. ‘Wherever have you learnt to play so well, young man? You’ve not beaten me yet, but you’ve come closer than anyone your age rightly should.’

  Landon, offering her a hand to clamber off the floor, shrugs. ‘Sometimes when I’d deliver meals they would need to be heated up or finished off at the house. One of the old ladies taught me that card game while we waited. Once word got out, they all insisted on a game with their delivery.’

  Grandma takes a step and winces. ‘My hip’s not what it used to be. I shouldn’t have sat on the floor for so long. But Landon, dear, now you listen here; that business you have, it’s a good one. I’ve gotten plenty of word on the grape vine about all your success. The thing about us oldies, dear, is that a lot of us are terribly alone. I’m incredibly lucky; not all my friends have grandkids to visit them like I do. The warm meal you bring round is what you’re evidently delivering, but even more so is the sight of a fresh face and a round of cards. It’s good work you’re doing, good work.’

  Landon’s face is red. ‘I’m just lucky to spend time with such a charming bunch.’

  Grandma nods sagely, pats his shoulder, and then turns to shuffle out of the room. ‘Goodnight dears,’ she calls before she disappears through the door.

  Julian puts his desert bowl aside and stands up. The room is quiet and still, with just him and Landon left. ‘Do you want a shower, or…?’

  Landon shakes his head. ‘Had one this morning.’ Landon’s ears are still red.

‘She’s right, you know,’ Julian says before he can chicken out. ‘Your business is good.’

  Landon nods. ‘Thanks, Juls. But…’ Landon’s hands flutter. His throat swallows.

Julian puts his hand on Landon’s arm—just lightly. They touch in little ways like this all the time, but right now, with the under-the-table sort-of-hand-hold so fresh in his mind and no joke in the air, it feels incredibly daring. ‘I know. You’ll get back into cooking when you’re ready, okay? Come on, let’s go to bed.’

  Silent, Landon allows himself to be led to their done-up lilo in the laundry. Julian leaves the room to brush his teeth and to give Landon a little privacy.

  When he gets back, Landon’s wearing the pyjama shirt Julian lent him weeks ago; it’s still too small for Landon’s tall frame, and the badly-drawn stick figures still make Julian embarrassed.

‘Back so soon, princess? Did you miss me?’

  Julian laughs, his shoulders relaxing. Landon seems well enough recovered, then.

  The bed’s small. Landon’s laying on his back in the middle, his arms behind his head. Julian notices the way his arms look, pulled back like that, the way the line of his chest flows smoothly up to his elbow, the way Landon’s eyes are hooded and his lips are smirking—Julian turns his head forcefully, busying himself with putting away his toothbrush. ‘Where am I supposed to fit? You better have shoved over by the time I get there, o-or…’

‘Or you’ll have to sleep on top of me? Hmm, that doesn’t sound so bad…’ Despite the teasing, Julian hears the sheets rustle as Landon moves over. ‘I was just warming it up for you.’

‘O-oh. Thanks,’ Julian stammers. He’s just fiddling with his toiletries bag now, stalling for time.

  They’ve shared a bed so many times now, it shouldn’t be an issue. But Julian feels—he feels such a tangle of different things, and there had been that hand-holding under the table. Landon went away for three days, and Julian’s bed has been cold and quiet, and their routine had been broken. This is a new thing. Getting into bed with Landon now is different to before, when Landon had just been crashing after a bad fight, or being comforted after the death of his Grandpa. This is a new thing; this is just going to bed, like it’s normal to share, like they really are the couple that they’re pretending to be.

‘You okay, Juls?’ Landon’s half sitting up, the sheet riding down and his pyjama shirt riding up so that his stomach is revealed, skin and bellybutton and—Julian jumps backwards, sending the toiletries bag flying.

‘W-why don’t you have your belly-button pieced?’ Julian says before Landon can ask something like _what’s on your mind_ or _why did you just jump half the room like a bunny rabbit_?

‘Dunno. Do you think it would be hot? I could get a little cat head ring for you, if you want.’ Landon winks, but Julian knows, bone-deep, that it’s not just a joke. Landon would do it. Landon does so many things, just because Julian asks. Like riding two hours just to visit him at college. Like climbing the tree outside his window in the dark just to say goodnight.

  With a gut-punch, Julian realises that Landon always come to visit him—he hasn’t even stayed more than ten minutes at Landon’s house since high school.

‘I’m sorry,’ Julian starts, wringing his hands. ‘I’ve been really selfish lately and I know I’m a shit friend. I—’

‘Hey, what? Juls, you’re not—’

  Julian can feel the start of tears, hot and thick behind his eyes. ‘No, Lan, let me finish. I’ve been horrible.’

  Unconvinced, Landon pats the bed. ‘Fine, but you have to sit down at least.’

  Julian shuffles to the bed and gets under the covers, sitting up against the wall stiffly. ‘I never visit you,’ he says, too ashamed to look at Landon. ‘I always ask you to do stuff—like, um, the—the you know, the _boyfriends_ thing a-and this trip even, and I didn’t even talk to you for a whole year after High School because I was so caught up with study and being lonely in college and even though Isaiah was there I still felt…’ Julian clenches his fist, shaking his head to try and stop the tears from falling but they can’t be stopped. ‘A-and,’ he continues, before Landon can butt in, ‘I just told my whole family that we would move in together even though I didn’t ask you first or anything and you probably d-don’t want to live with me anyway s-so—’

‘Juls—’

‘And I told Leslie that we would be godfathers and _I didn’t even ask if you wanted that_ , you’re always the best friend to me and I’m r-really bad—’

  Suddenly, everything moves. Landon’s arms are around him. Landon’s nose is buried deep in his shoulder. ‘For real, Juls? Godfathers…?’ Landon’s shaking.

  Julian blinks, his tears clinging to his eyelashes. He puts a careful hand on Landon’s back. ‘Yeah. For real. I’m sorry—’

  Landon pulls back. His hands come up to hold Julian’s cheeks. His whole face is alight. ‘You’re going to come live with me, and we’re going to get a cat, and we’re going to be godfathers,’ Landon says. His thumbs stroke Julian’s face. Laughing softly, he bumps his nose against Julian’s.

‘We’re going to get a cat?’ Julian repeats. Everything feels surreal. He’s barely breathing, holding himself as still as possible as if doing so will stop anything from changing. Will keep him here, forever, in this magic floaty moment where Landon’s cradling his face and smiling like the sun, close enough that Julian’s eyes are a little cross-eyed.

‘Ye-p’, Landon grins, popping the “p”. ‘Your parents wouldn’t let you, but who’s to stop you now? I don’t care if you want to have ten cats. A hundred.’

‘Lan! Now you’re teasing me.’

‘Yeah,’ Landon grins, pulling away a little but not entirely. He moves his hands from Julian’s cheek and ruffles Julian’s hair instead. ‘A hundred might be a bit much.’

‘Ten, then,’ Julian bargains, pushing Landon’s arm playfully.

‘Let’s start with one,’ Landon laughs. ‘Hey! What about that one with the black eye-patch you and Leslie saw when you were looking at shelter adds in the car? We could get it on the way back tomorrow, even.’

‘Landon! We don’t even have any food, or a bed, or—or all the other stuff. And there was that little ginger one that was cute as well, oh, a-and that old grey-and-white tomcat with the missing ear…’

  They use Julian’s phone to look at the listings on the shelter’s website until Julian’s eyes start to droop and Landon’s sentences are intersected with yawns. Their feet are touching, just a little, under the blankets.

‘Goodnight Lan,’ Julian says as he puts his phone away.

‘Night roomie,’ Landon murmurs, his eyes closed and a smile on his lips.

  Julian can’t help but replay Landon’s words in his head. _You’re going to come live with me, and we’re going to get a cat, and we’re going to be godfathers._ Julian adds a fourth item to the list: _I’m going to be a better friend._ The house is quiet, and their little den of cosy blankets and just-touching feet is perfect. Landon’s on the edge of sleep, his breathing evening out.

  Julian closes his eyes and settles into his pillow. He can’t wait for tomorrow; and all the tomorrows after that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end!! I've now posted everything from "Part 1" of this story! Unfortunately, at the speed I write, "Part 2" (which I'm tentatively titling "Never Enough Partners") may not be out for six months or so... sorry... the Landad will arrive eventually, I swear... So! Stay tuned!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! I love comments <3


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